SKETCHES 
of  SOVIET 
RUSSIA  by 

JOHN  VARNEY 


££9 


SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 


.SKETCHES 
OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

WHOLE  CLOTH  AND  PATCHES 


JOHN^VARNEY 


NICHOLAS  L.  BROWN 

NEW  YORK  MCMXX 


COPYRIGHT,  1920 

BY 
NICHOLAS  L.  BROWN 


'A  II  Rights  Reserved 


TO  RANDOLPH  BOURNE 

Brave  American, 

Lover  of  our  country ! 

Throbbing   with   its   best   and   developed   traditions   of 

liberty ; 
Carrying  liberty's  torch  to  the  innermost  recesses  of  the 

caverns  of  selfhood, 

And  discovering  in  advance  of  thy  kinsmen 
The  secrets  of  the  free  society  of  the  future; 
We  salute  thee  now ! 

You  saw  with  quick  and  bated  emotion 

The  faint  light  of  the  first  beacon  signal 

For  a  new  fight  for  freedom  —  for  freedom  too  pure  to 
bear  adj  ective  dilutions  — 

On  that  hill  far  away, 

Where  thy  frail  body  could  hardly  carry  thee, 

But  where  thy  mind  and  all  thy  quick  pure  spirit  rushed 
to  be; 

In  the  land  of  hope  and  regeneration  — 

Russia,  the  despised ;  hated  for  its  youth 

By  all  the  old  tyrants,  Things-as-They-Are ; 

As,  in  a  measure  —  calling  thee  small  and  un- 
American  — 

They  hated  and  hounded  thee  — 

Even  to  thy  Death! 


CONTENTS 

PART  ONE:    PATCHES 
INTRODUCTORY,  11 
STERILITY,  17 

ENTERING  A  NEW  RUSSIA,  25 
KAZAN:     SUMMER  OF  1918,  36 

WOOD  FLAME: 

An  Imaginary  Story  of  the  Volga  River,  43 

COUNTER-REVOLUTION,  68 

SMASHING  THE  LINES: 

An  Account,  Largely  Imaginary,  of  Bi-organization 
Activity,  85 

SUNLESS  KOLA,  101 

JOHN  BULL  IN  NORTH  RUSSIA,  119 

WHAT  THE  ALLIES  ACCOMPLISHED  IN  NORTH  RUSSIA,  126 

HONEY  Lou: 

An  Imaginary  Adventure  Among  the  Lapps,  133 

RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS,  152 
TAVARISH:  A  POEM,  165 

PART  TWO:    WHOLE  CLOTH 

WHOLE  CLOTH: 

A  Dialogue  on  Political  Realism,  171 


INTRODUCTORY 


INTRODUCTORY 

In  this  book  are  collected  stray  writings  based 
upon  experiences  of  the  author  in  Russia  from  April, 
1918,  to  March,  1919.  Experiences  of  a  common 
American  in  very  ordinary  service  with  the  Y.  M.  C. 
A. ;  Russia,  however,  being  what  she  was  at  that  time, 
they  were  uncommon  experiences. 

If  no  central  thread  appears  at  first  in  these  nar- 
ratives, the  incompleteness  and  inchoateness  of  the 
phenomena  observed  by  the  author  must  be  the  ex- 
cuse. Although  he  cannot  dogmatize  about  Russia, 
he  can  suggest ;  and  so  far  as  the  suggestive  and  im- 
pressionistic method  is  of  value,  definite  images  and 
ideas  may  emerge  for  the  reader  from  the  writer's 
piece-meal  sketches,  when  taken  together. 

The  dialogue,  Whole  Cloth,  was  written  in  its  first 
draft  and  with  most  of  its  array  of  ideas,  in  Sweden 
and  Norway  during  September  and  October,  1918, 
before  the  armistice,  when  the  writer  was  traveling 
from  Soviet  parts  into  anti-Soviet  parts  of  Russia. 
This  fact  accounts  for  a  certain  war-time  flavor  in  it. 
The  short  pieces,  or  patches,  have  been  written  at 
different  periods  from  the  time  the  writer  first  ar- 
rived in  Russia  to  the  present  day. 

While  the  dialogue  and  three  of  the  short  sketches, 
Wood  Flame,  Smashing  the  Lines,  and  Honey  Lou, 

are  based  upon  actual  experiences,  their  characters 

11 


12        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

are  imaginary  and  do  not  express,  specifically,  the 
ideas  of  the  writer  or  of  other  persons. 

The  title,  Sketches  of  Soviet  Russia,  may  seem  non- 
inclusive  to  those  who  believe  that  the  anti-Soviet 
governments  of  Murmansk  and  Archangel  were  a 
serious  menace  to  the  propagation  and  development 
of  the  Soviet  principle  in  Russia.  The  writer  be- 
lieves that  the  unfortunate  intervention  of  the  Allies 
in  North  Russia  only  helped  the  Soviet  principle  to 
grow  to  harvest  time ;  that  the  governments  they  set 
up  were  just  anti-Soviet;  negative,  colorless,  un- 
principled —  only  a  phase  of  the  constructive,  active 
force  of  Sovietism. 

Since  the  various  sketches  of  this  book  are  in  the 
nature  of  excerpts  from  a  literary  diary,  it  may  not 
be  out  of  place  for  the  author  to  explain  so  much  of 
himself  as  will  account  for  the  war-time  prejudices 
with  which  he  entered  upon  his  days  in  Russia.  Ac- 
cordingly, a  review  of  the  writer's  American  diary 
for  the  few  months  preceding  his  departure  for  Rus- 
sia is  given  in  a  few  pages  immediately  following. 

In  a  special  margined  wide  column  of  the  Boston 
Herald  of  April  3,  1917,  I  read  President  Wilson's 
Call  to  War  with  Germany.  The  crisp,  moral-heavy 
passages  dug  deep  into  my  feelings.  I  had  been 
pretty  strong  against  this  war  on  an  instinct.  But 
that  trenchant  morning  I  discovered  I  was  no  Paci- 
fist. Wilson  said  something  within  that  wide  mar- 
gin about  America  and  Americans  that  touched  ex- 
plosive matter  way  down.  I  finally  became  moved  to 
a  point  almost  to  enlist  that  very  morning.  Law 


INTRODUCTORY  13 

School  was  just  a  library  of  decisions  for  dead  men 
on  dead  causes ;  War  —  of  that  wide-margined  sort 
—  was  law-giving  of  the  Mosaic  sort,  being  brought 
down  from  God  Himself!  So  deep  consciousness  of 
country,  hymn-emotion,  and  Mosaic  Wilson  had  their 
spell  over  me.  My  friends  and  fellow  students  at 
law  school  fell  under  a  similar  spell,  I  suppose  — 
but  whether  it  was  just  such  a  spell,  I  cannot  be 
positive  —  and  their  instinct  led  them  to  enlist  at 
once,  that  is,  to  go  at  once  to  a  training  camp  for 
officers.  As  that  day  wore  on,  my  own  old  inform- 
ing instinct  prevailed :  I  did  not  enlist. 

On  the  day  war  was  declared,  Professor  Wam- 
baugh  at  the  end  of  his  lecture  referred  with  tears 
in  his  eyes  to  Lincoln's  call  for  volunteers  in  '61. 
I  conceded  the  professor's  right  to  draw  the  analogy, 
and  I  conceded  that,  in  falling  subject  to  the  spell 
of  his  warm  words,  the  students  paid  a  tribute  to 
those  noble  strains  in  all  of  us,  way  down,  that  can 
always  be  appealed  to  on  occasion ;  but,  as  for  my- 
self, I  remained  outside  the  range  of  the  spell;  the 
sudden  abatement  of  that  first  rise  of  the  war  fever 
in  me  after  impact  with  Wilson's  fine  words,  left  me 
for  month  after  month  uninfected  by  the  war  en- 
thusiasm of  my  fellow  Americans  about  me. 

That  swift  judgment  on  the  library  of  decisions 
for  dead  men  on  dead  causes,  once  pronounced,  re- 
mained binding ;  and  it  was  difficult  to  retain  enough 
interest  in  law  lectures  to  insure  the  passing  of  the 
June  examinations.  The  problems  of  the  war  and 
of  patriotism,  taking  daily  new  angles,  puzzled  my 


14        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

mind  probably  more  in  Cambridge  than  they  would 
have  done  had  I  gone  to  a  camp  —  done  something. 
But  why  dodge  the  intellectual  problems  of  the  war? 
They  would  have  to  be  faced  sometime,  if  I  was  to 
keep  respect  for  my  own  mind.  The  obstinacy  of 
my  mind,  however,  did  not  lead  me  out  on  any  bright 
and  shining  clear  path;  it  did  not  lead  me  to  any 
field  of  martyrdom.  To  evade  the  draft  law  in  any 
fashion,  never  seriously  entered  my  head.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  conscientious  objector  against  all  war 
seemed  as  unreal  as  the  position  of  the  mass  of  the 
people  toward  this  war  to  end  war.  Neither  was 
the  growth  of  my  dissenting  opinions  about  the  war 
accompanied  by  the  zest  of  reality;  the  pragmatic 
value  of  these  opinions  was  doubtful ;  they  were  like 
unstated  faiths  —  faiths  too  new  to  have  any  lan- 
guage by  which  they  could  pass  current  among  the 
believers  of  them ;  they  could  not  be  propagated ;  the 
officers  of  government  needed  to  have  no  fear  that 
war-faiths  in  such  a  crude  state  of  development  as 
mine  were,  could  be  preached. 

For  us  who  were  such  isolated  believers,  set  adrift 
in  an  uncharted  sea,  one  spokesman,  Randolph 
Bourne,  was  then  writing,  straight  out  with  a  con- 
viction of  right  and  of  correct  patriotism,  in  the 
Seven  Arts  Magazine  of  blessed  memory.  Soon  this 
magazine  had  to  disappear;  it  was  the  last  light  to 
go  out  —  leaving  darkness  to  reign  —  except  for 
the  phosphorescent  New  Republic, 

With  the  progress  of  darkness  here,  was  con- 
trasted the  progress  of  light  on  another  shore  —  in 


INTRODUCTORY  15 

Russia.  Adrift  on  the  uncharted  sea  —  I  was 
driven  by  strong  instinct  to  the  light.  The  only  ship 
I  could  find  to  carry  me  thither  was  one  sent  by  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  I  may  be  thought  a  hypocrite  to  have 
sailed  under  Y.  M.  C.  A.  colors,  but  certainly  I  was 
less  a  hypocrite  to  go  to  Russia  for  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
than  to  go  to  Prance  for  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  I  was  still 
less  a  hypocrite  than  to  have  waited  in  America  in 
my  slough  of  despair  until  in  the  course  of  events 
conscripted  for  a  clerkship  in  Washington;  that 
would  have  been  a  sort  of  martyrdom ! 

The  banners  of  the  Proletariat  had  just  been 
raised  in  Russia.  What  did  that  mean?  In  think- 
ing about  what  that  might  mean,  zest  once  more 
took  up  her  residence  in  my  mind;  Russia  might 
bring  me  into  reality  again.  Whether  it  did  or  not, 
you,  reader,  must  judge  from  the  assorted  interpreta- 
tions of  Russia  in  the  following  pages.  At  least 
from  this  preface  you  will  learn  the  state  of  mind 
of  the  author  when  he  left  America  to  go  there.  As 
further  evidence  of  his  state  of  mind,  as  illustration 
of  a  documentary  sort,  he  appends  the  major  part 
of  an  article,  entitled  "  Sterility,"  written  by  him  in 
September,  1917. 

In  a  note  to  the  heads  of  all  belligerent  peoples,  on 
August  1,  1917,  the  Pope  made  several  concrete  sug- 
gestions for  peace :  The  simultaneous  and  reciprocal 
diminution  of  armaments ;  the  recognition  of  the  true 
liberty  and  community  of  the  seas ;  the  settlement 
of  territorial  questions  by  all  parties  in  a  concilia- 
tory spirit.  On  August  27th,  President  Wilson  re- 


16        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

plying  to  the  Pope's  note  declared  that  any  parley 
with  the  ambitious  and  intriguing  rulers  of  Germany 
could  lead  to  no  peace  based  on  the  faith  of  all  the 
peoples  involved.  There  was  included  a  statement 
that  "  punitive  damages,  the  dismemberment  of  em- 
pires, the  establishment  of  selfish  and  exclusive  eco- 
nomic leagues,  we  deem  inexpedient.'*  And  curiously 
it  was  argued  that  to  follow  the  Pope's  plan  would, 
by  strengthening  the  German  Government,  result  in 
abandoning  new-born  Russia  to  certain  counter  revo- 
lution. 

This  little  article  "  Sterility,"  with  the  President's 
reply  to  the  Pope  as  a  text,  sets  forth  some  of  the 
observations  of  the  author  on  the  complexion  of 
American  war-thought  of  a  given  week.  The  article 
betrays  the  formation  of  vaguely-felt,  yet  confident, 
heterodox  opinion.  It  is  printed  so  that  it  may 
conveniently  be  skipped  by  the  orthodox  and  by  those 
impatient  with  groping,  tentative  opinion. 

July,  1920. 


STERILITY 

The  President's  reply  to  the  Pope's  peace  note  is  a 
ringing,  definite  utterance.  With  the  crashing  of  war 
thunder  and  the  flashing  of  merciful  lightning  a  Jove 
speaks.  One  man  among  the  welter  of  an  apparently 
individual-less  world-mob,  Mr.  Wilson,  has  seen  the 
light.  Moses  has  come  down  out  of  Sinai.  To  judg- 
ment in  the  court  of  the  nations,  at  last  has  come  a 
Daniel.  The  Central  Powers  are  declared  the  guilty 
party.  The  Allies  shall  have  their  pound  of  flesh. 
But,  of  course,  they  will  be  generous.  France  will  not 
take  Alsace-Lorraine,  Italy  will  not  take  the  half-Italian 
cities  on  the  Adriatic,  England  will  give  up  her  two- 
power  naval  standard  and  accept  Germany  as  an  equal. 
But  that  the  Central  Empires  will  not  be  dismembered 
is  only  by  grace  of  a  mercy  that  tempers  judgment. 
The  Allies  must  nominally  have  the  pound  of  flesh. 
That  is  the  law.  That  is  right.  That  is  just. 

To  the  President  the  question  of  innocence  and  of  guilt 
is  of  colossal  simplicity;  to  certain  other  Americans  it 
has  seemed,  and  still  seems,  infinitely  complex.  To  the 
President  the  issue  is  moral;  to  these  other  Americans 
there  is  no  grand  issue;  rather  we  witness,  it  appears  to 
them,  the  pitting  of  great  non-individual,  evolutionary 
forces  over  against  one  another.  The  moralist,  dealing 
with  absolutes,  finds  his  intelligence  sufficient  for  the 
day.  The  evolutionist  expects  intelligence  in  dealing 
with  the  present  events  to  be  sufficient  only  in  the 
studies  of  the  best  historical  minds  of  the  years  to  come. 

The  note  harks  back  to  the  first  principles  of  state- 
ments made  by  the  Allied  governments  at  the  time,  con- 
siderably less  than  a  year  ago,  when  Wilson  requested 

17 


18        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  peace  terms  of  all  belligerents.  The  French  said 
that  Wilson  in  making  that  request  was  a  foolish  idealist. 
English  comment  was :  "  What  can  America  have  to 
say  when  the  issues  have  been  so  clearly  defined  by  the 
various  Premiers  of  the  Entente  Powers  ?  "  Mr.  Wil- 
son had  called  the  attention  of  the  warring  statesmen  to 
the  fact  that  on  each  side  they  professed  the  same 
objects:  desired  to  make  secure  the  rights  of  weak 
states  and  to  provide  against  the  recurrence  of  wars  like 
the  present  one.  The  irritation  of  the  Allies  —  namely 
the  irritation  of  London  and  Paris  —  at  this,  had  its 
vent  in  the  formal  reply  by  the  Entente,  which  intimated 
that  Wilson  had  made  an  assimilation  between  the  two 
groups  of  belligerents ;  "  this  assimilation,  based  upon 
public  declarations  by  the  Central  Powers,  is,"  the 
formal  reply  read,  "  in  direct  opposition  to  the  evidence, 
both  as  regards  responsibility  for  the  past,  and  as  con- 
cerns guarantees  for  the  future."  The  Entente  was  in 
this  way  acting  as  judge  of  the  evidence  in  its  own 
case.  In  the  reply  to  the  Pope,  the  President  brushes 
aside  the  question  of  evidence,  altogether.  The  wicked- 
ness of  the  Central  Powers  is  held  to  be  self-evident. 
So  nations  in  the  past  have  always  judged  the  evidence 
of  national  culpability.  All  is  fair  in  war,  so  they  have 
said.  Then  why  is  there  in  this  war  an  attempt  of  each 
party  to  make  out  a  case  for  itself?  Because  the  pres- 
sure of  the  present  cataclysm  is  forcing  the  thinking  men 
of  every  nation  to  utter  something,  even  though  that 
something  partakes,  in  its  general  tenor,  of  the  nature 
of  the  old  irrationalities.  The  utterance  of  the  Presi- 
dent does  so  partake,  we  fear. 

The  New  York  Times  reports,  as  reported,  that  there 
are  "  circles  of  opinion  abroad  in  which  the  President 
is  regarded  as  more  firmly  set  on  the  continuance  of  the 
war  than  any  other  national  leader,  in  consequence  of 
his  reply  to  the  Pope."  Certainly  his  words  must 
greatly  please  the  imperialistic  sections  of  the  Entente. 


STERILITY  19 

The  Manchester  Guardian  and  what  may  be  termed  the 
right  wing  of  English  Radicals,  seem  greatly  pleased 
with  that  part  of  the  Wilson  document  dealing  with 
"  punitive  damages  " ;  "  dismemberment  of  empires  " ; 
"  establishment  of  selfish  and  exclusive  economic 
leagues."  While,  then,  the  imperialists  applaud  the 
document  because  they  shrewdly  estimate  that  the  effect 
of  such  a  peace-technique  is  to  prolong  the  war  till  the 
knock-out  blow,  the  English  liberals  applaud  the  splen- 
did paragraph  of  ideals.  This  paragraph  links  this  last 
note  to  the  earlier  Wilson  notes. 

The  boldness  of  the  Presidential  Bull  against  exclusive 
economic  leagues  is  a  stroke.  It  is  the  progressive  part 
of  this  particular  Wilson  document  and  future  reference 
may  for  this  reason  set  it  apart  from  the  other  papers. 

When  the  President  last  December  (1916)  asked  the 
belligerents  to  state  their  terms  of  peace,  his  note  had  a 
queer  dash  —  something  like  innuendo.  He  spoke  of 
us  as  a  neutral  nation  "  whose  interests  have  been  most 
seriously  affected  by  the  war  and  whose  concern  for  its 
conclusion  arises  out  of  a  manifest  necessity  to  determine 
how  best  to  safeguard  those  interests  if  the  war  is  to 
continue."  Mr.  Lansing,  the  President's  Secretary  of 
State,  issued  the  following  statement  the  next  day :  "  We 
are  drawing  nearer  the  verge  of  war  and  therefore  are 
entitled  to  know  what  each  belligerent  seeks,  in  order 
that  we  may  regulate  our  conduct  in  the  future."  This 
interpretation  of  the  President's  ambiguity  didn't  quite 
reflect  the  executive  mind  and  was,  therefore,  the  same 
day  amended  The  final  presidential  pronouncement  was 
that  we  were  not  contemplating  war.  Probably  we  were 
not.  The  "  we  "  as  expressed  in  the  national  election, 
one  month  previous,  certainly  was  not  contemplating 
w;vr. 

So  now,  again,  on  occasion  of  the  reply  to  the  Pope, 
one  in  authority,  as  the  Associated  Press  puts  it,  has 
broken  the  force  of  the  President's  words  regarding 


20        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

exclusive  economic  leagues.  The  President  was  not  re- 
ferring thus  to  the  Paris  Inter-Allied  Economic  Confer- 
ence, but  to  aggressive  economic  leagues  that  would  be 
made  necessary  if  the  Pope's  plan  were  acted  upon. 
In  commenting  upon  this  part  of  the  paper  the  Paris 
papers  reached  harmony  with  Mr.  Wilson  by  contending 
that  the  economic  league  proposed  by  the  Paris  confer- 
ence was  for  defense  only. 

So  the  merry  game  of  logomachy  in  our  thinking  and 
of  reality  in  our  warfare  continues.  W;e  grow  not  more 
powerful  but  more  powerless,  it  seems,  to  say  the  magic 
word  that  will  recall  the  inhuman  forces  of  carnage 
let  loose  by  awkward,  second-rate  world-rulers.  This 
impotency  of  those  in  high  authority  to  deal  with  the 
horror  of  the  present  actuality  the  President  has  him- 
self stated  well  in  the  first  of  his  international  notes: 
"If  the  contest  must  continue  to  proceed  toward  unde- 
fined ends  by  slow  attrition  until  the  one  group  of 
belligerents  or  the  other  is  exhausted;  if  millions  after 
millions  of  human  lives  must  continue  to  be  offered  up 
until  on  the  one  side  or  the  other  there  are  no  more  to 
offer ;  if  resentments  must  be  kindled  that  can  never  cool 
and  despairs  engendered  from  which  there  can  be  no 
recovery,  hopes  of  peace  and  of  willing  concert  of  free 
peoples  will  be  rendered  vain  and  idle." 

"  That  only  person  in  high  authority  amongst  all  the 
peoples  of  the  world  who  is  at  liberty  to  speak  out  and 
hold  nothing  back  "  is  not  only  no  longer  uniquely  "  at 
liberty,"  but  he  now  appears  the  one  of  the  Allied 
Premiers  most  inclined  to  sit  tight  till  Der  Tag.  The 
logic  of  a  Peace  without  Victory  was  for  another  day. 

Whatever  the  value  of  some  of  Mr.  Wilson's  theories, 
the  effect  of  this  papal  reply  to  the  Pope  is  to  prolong 
the  war.  There  can  be  no  parley  with  the  Great  Cause 
of  the  war  is  its  argument;  there  may  be  parley  only, 
and  perhaps,  with  the  innocent  German  people.  Does 
the  President  count  on  a  German  revolution  at  the  end? 


STERILITY  21 

Has  the  weather-cock  swung  at  last  to  this  —  a  war  for 
German  freedom?  Is  The  Day  for  which  we  must  wait, 
the  day  when  the  shackles  of  the  German  people  are 
unloosed?  We  were  fighting  to  make  the  world  safe  for 
democracy.  More  specifically  we  began  by  fighting  for 
American  rights  of  neutrality  on  the  seas;  we  end  in 
fighting  for  nothing  specific  at  all.  We  embrace  the 
cause  of  all  causes  which  are  anti-Middle-Europe:  the 
cause  of  British  South  Africa,  Irredentism,  defensive  (  ?) 
economic  leagues,  restoration  of  Alsace-Lorraine.  Yet 
all  these  things  were  being  fought  for  a  year  ago  when 
the  candidate  who  was  in  favor  of  being  too  proud  to 
fight  won  his  campaign. 

May  we  not  almost  reach  the  conclusion  that  the 
reigning  statesmen  of  the  war  are  too  old  in  years  and 
too  old  in  technique  to  create  platforms  that  shall  be 
international !  Verily,  it  is  no  more  difficult  for  a  camel 
to  go  through  a  needle's  eye  than  for  a  nationalist  states- 
man to  conceive  of  an  internationalist  peace.  Ribot  has 
spoken.  Michaelis  has  spoken.  Lloyd-George,  Balfour, 
and  Sir  Edward  Carson  have  spoken.  Wilson  has  writ- 
ten. To  what  effect  —  all? 

During  his  five  years  of  national  leadership  Woodrow 
Wilson  has  well  written  much  that  has  become  a  fund 
for  sound  thinking  on  political  topics ;  he  has,  for  ex- 
ample, lifted  the  idea  of  a  League  to  Enforce  Peace 
from  the  level  of  a  society  of  illuminati  to  the  forum  of 
world  discussion.  Moreover,  he  has  achieved  large, 
progressive  measures  in  the  times  of  peace:  the  President 
piped  and  Congress  danced.  And  in  the  six  months  of 
war  he  has  shown  a  masterful  hand  in  effecting,  in  the 
face  of  a  contentious  legislative  body,  stupendous  organ- 
ization for  war.  We  may  say  we  hope  that  his  reply  to 
the  Pope  may  be  fruitful  in  bringing  lasting  peace. 
That  it  has  found  Vor-waerts,  the  German  Socialist 
newspaper,  not  unreceptive,  proves  it  not  entirely  inef- 
fective in  its  aim;  though  Vorwaerts  complains  that  it 


22        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

does  not  find  in  the  note  that  spirit  of  friendliness  to 
the  German  people  which  might  have  been  furnished 
by  a  plain  statement  that  the  German  people  should  not 
have  to  suffer  at  the  hands  of  its  enemies.  To  this  com- 
plaint an  inadequate  answer  might  readily  be  framed: 
that  Mr.  Wilson  had  to  speak  in  general  terms  in  his 
note  in  order  not  to  tread  on  the  toes  of  his  confederates. 
Though  trusting  blindly  that  in  some  way  this  last 
work  of  Mr.  Wilson  will  advance  real  peace,  we  must, 
on  the  whole,  confess  to  a  keen  disappointment.  We  had 
hoped  the  commanding  representative  of  our  new  world 
would  show  a  grasp  of  new  strange  principles.  We  had 
hoped  that  when  we  heard  his  voice  again,  it  might  give 
us  a  thrill  for  the  encountering  of  new-found  adjust- 
ments —  such  a  thrill  as  we  experienced  on  the  morn- 
ings when  the  new  burning  of  heart  in  Russia  was 
heralded.  Perhaps  we  are  not  longer  to  expect  the 
new  adaptations  to  be  seen  by  Mr.  Wilson.  But  surely 
in  the  tumultuous  breaking  up  of  the  old  order,  which 
the  present  world-pain  makes  inevitable,  some  American 
eyes  will  be  powerfully  penetrating. 


SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 


ENTERING  A  NEW  RUSSIA 

There  was  a  hidden  perturbation  of  heart  and  of 
head  as  we  were  leaving  England  in  April,  1918,  for 
a  new  country,  Russia !  —  for  a  country  of  strange 
social  monsters  with  uncertain  and  inaccurately- 
reported  habits  and  disposition.  So  affected  by 
the  prospects  was  I,  myself,  that  that  last  evening 
we  spent  in  London,  I  could  not  laugh  at  my  room- 
mate when  he  asked  me  for  directions  in  writing  a 
will. 

From  Newcastle  we  steered  a  zig-zag  course 
through  submarine  territory.  German  submarines 
were  watching  for  English  boats  off  the  North  Cape 
at  that  time,  and,  in  cases,  failing  to  destroy  these, 
would,  just  out  of  spite,  sink  little  Norwegian  fishing 
smacks  in  the  vicinity.  To  our  surprise,  we  did  not 
find  it  excessively  cold  in  those  arctic  waters,  the 
reason  being  that  we  were  following  the  Gulf  Stream 
to  one  of  its  termini  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mur- 
mansk. Murmansk  was  our  terminus,  a  Russian 
port  open  the  year  round,  located  about  200  miles 
east  of  the  Norwegian  North  Cape,  at  the  inner 
extremity  of  an  indentation  of  the  Kola  Peninsula, 
rather  difficult  to  navigate. 

The  town  of  Murmansk,  built  up  with  the  coming 
25 


26        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

of  the  railroad  just  completed,  resembled  an  Amer- 
ican western  boom-town  or  one  of  the  new  small 
cities  of  Siberia.  Most  of  the  structures,  excepting 
the  substantial  log  government  buildings,  were  low 
log  shacks,  protected  in  the  winter  from  the  cold 
by  moats  and  banked  walls  of  close-fibered  roots  and 
tree  branches,  and  by  wool  stuffed  into  the  cracks 
between  the  logs.  The  many-houred  sun.  of  the 
northern  spring  had  then  —  about  April  20  —  half- 
melted  the  snow  and  brought  the  roads  to  a  very 
muddy  and  almost  impassable  condition.  The  fol- 
lowing winter  many  Allied  troops  were  quartered  in 
Murmansk,  and  it  was  feared  that  with  the  coming 
of  spring  an  epidemic  would  break  out  which  would 
over-crowd  the  new,  secluded  cemetery  on  the  top  of 
the  hill ;  but,  thanks  to  the  special  preventive  meas- 
ures taken,  the  soldiers  enjoyed  excellent  health  in 
this  region  summer  and  winter. 

We  were  not  surprised  on  landing  at  Murmansk  at 
six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  to  be  informed  that  it  was 
after  hours  of  work  for  the  wharf  porters  and  that 
none  could  be  obtained  at  any  price.  Prepared  for 
something  much  more  resembling  an  atrocity  —  even 
pleased  at  the  negligible  character  of  our  first  Rus- 
sian hardship  —  we  went  to  work,  without  grum- 
bling, and  carried  our  assorted  baggage,  heavy  and 
light,  with  our  own  arms  and  hands  from  the  dock- 
side  to  a  freight  car  four  hundred  yards  distant. 
In  those  first  days  of  Soviet  freedom,  workmen  often 
made  hours  to  suit  themselves  and  the  public  was 
damned. 


ENTERING  A  NEW  RUSSIA  27 

Murmansk  had  for  many  months  been  kept  full  of 
departing  missions  and  refugees.  Almost  every 
evening  a  concert  was  given  at  the  town  hall  by  a 
different  set  of  these  talented  people,  among  them 
artistes  of  the  Petrograd  and  Moscow  opera  houses. 
Picking  their  way  over  the  muddy  roads  and  the 
railroad  tracks,  on  which  stood  their  private  cars, 
were  to  be  seen  many  meticulously  garbed  French 
officers.  Members  of  the  American  Red  Cross  Unit 
that  had  been  getting  out  of  Roumania  through 
Russia  for  five  weeks,  gave  us  a  certain  initiation 
into  the  mysteries  of  the  Russia  of  that  time  —  the 
words  which  fell  from  their  lips  only  increased  the 
mystery,  the  inexplicable  riddle  of  Russia  to  me.  At 
the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  which  was  the  headquarters  of  the 
Americans  in  town,  we  met  the  American  Lieutenant 

P ,  who  became  a  man  of  authority  to  us.     Now 

I  picked  up  in  this  headquarters  and  read  with  my 
back  to  the  Russian  stove,  an  amazing  book  to  be 
taken  to  Russia  as  American  propaganda  —  Henry 
D.  Sedgewick's  "  The  New  American  Type  and  Other 

Essays."     Lieutenant  P was   Sedgewick's  new 

American  type,  brisk  in  movement,  shoulders  slightly 
stooped,  eyes  determined  and  hawk-like,  yet  question- 
ing ;  his  ideas  originating  in  a  business  man's  highly- 
concentrated  imagination,  ingenious,  yet  quite  fixed 
and  irrevocable  after  once  taking  form.  This  fellow 
endeavored  to  communicate  to  us  his  enthusiasm  for 
a  plan  to  land  several  thousand  American  troops  at 
Murmansk ;  "  They  would  become  a  nucleus  " —  he 
proved  to  us,  like  a  preacher,  gesticulating  — "  for 


28        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

a  horde  of  eager  Russians,  waiting  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  fight  the  Soviets." 

Murmansk's  was  our  first  Soviet.  No  red  tape 
there !  No  questions,  no  customs,  for  us !  The 
committee  in  control  of  local  affairs  were  two  sailors 
and  a  fireman,  all  from  one  of  the  unmanned  Russian 
warships  lying  idle  in  the  harbor.  Two  of  this 
Soviet  (committee)  had  lived  in  America  for  a  num- 
ber of  years,  and  were  especially  friendly  to  Amer- 
icans. Halsey,  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  man,  said  their 
administration  of  affairs  was  not  so  bad  as  it  might 
be.  The  bread,  all  purchased  by  permit  at  the 
public  bakery,  was  cheap ;  the  flour  came  from  Eng- 
land. All  the  workmen  were  required  to  attend 
night-school  —  an  instance  of  their  new  freedom ! 

We  were  deluged  at  once,  of  course,  with  many 
wild  and  miraculous  tales  of  "  progressive  "  Russia. 
The  country  was  rife  with  rumors  and  conjectures. 
And  it  seemed  to  me,  anything  might  happen  in  such 
a  jumping-off  place  of  civilization.  Among  other 
tales,  was  one  most  pertinent  to  us,  that  a  train  of 
refugees  coming  to  Murmansk  was  held  up  by  its 
engineer  till  given  a  bonus  by  the  passengers.  We 
were  more  inclined  to  believe  this  story  when  our  own 
engineer  refused  to  move  his  train.  We  were  told  he 
refused  because  the  train  crew  was  not  given  enough 
food.  If  true,  just  cause!  Passengers  were  very 
careful  to  carry  enough  food  for  all  emergencies. 
Why  should  not  those  who  "  worked  their  passage  " 
be  also  insured  against  starvation?  So  here  was  a 
story  neither  picturesque  nor  picaresque.  Whatever 


'ENTERING  A  NEW  RUSSIA  29 

adjustment  was  made  between  "  labor  "  and  "  labor," 
the  train  ambled  on  its  way  the  next  morning,  only 
twelve  hours  late. 

This  railroad  connecting  Murmansk  with  Petro- 
grad  had  only  been  completed  during  the  war.  The 
Russian  government  had  realized  the  tremendous  ad- 
vantages of  Murmansk  as  a  port  open  the  year  round 
for  trade  with  England  and  America  —  especially  at 
a  time  when  the  war  made  other  Russian  ports  inac- 
cessible. American  contractors  were  intrusted  with 
the  undertaking,  and  at  once  one  thousand  men 
were  employed,  mostly  Chinese  coolies,  work  being 
begun  at  both  ends  simultaneously.  The  difficulties 
were  great :  the  lack  of  population,  the  swampy  na- 
ture of  the  ground,  the  distance  from  supplies. 
The  climate  was  severe  for  the  Asiatic  workmen  and 
hundreds  of  them  died  of  the  scurvy,  a  disease  to 
which  people  living  in  that  arctic  country  are  sus- 
ceptible. When  the  English  occupied  this  region, 
their  soldiers  were  ordered  to  drink  lime  juice  as  a 
preventive  against  this  disease.  I  remember  one 
pitiable  Russian,  an  exile  from  the  Southland,  whom 
I  saw  afflicted  with  scurvy,  and  dying  a  slow  death. 
I  had  to  tell  him  there  was  no  way  for  him  to  cross 
the  lines  and  reach  his  home  —  that  was  during  the 
time  of  the  military  intervention  —  as  he  very  much 
wished  to  do.  He  had  contracted  the  disease  from 
under-nourishment. 

The  railroad  runs  from  Murmansk  to  Kandalak- 
sha, at  the  northernmost  corner  of  the  White  Sea; 
to  'Soroka  at  the  southwest  corner ;  to  Petrozavodsk, 


30        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

a  town  of  10,000;  and  to  Ivanka,  south  of  Lake 
Ladoga,  connecting  at  the  latter  place  with  a  previ- 
ously existing  line  to  Petrograd.  The  length  of  the 
whole  line  is  650  miles,  built  standard-gauge,  and 
eventually  to  be  double-tracked. 

This  road  was  not  completed  in  time  to  be  of  great 
military  value  during  the  war,  but  in  times  of 
future  peace  it  will  develop  Russia's  exports  in 
grain,  flax,  and  dairy  products  from  North  Russia. 
Archangel,  the  old,  and  only  other,  port  in  the  north, 
is  400  miles  further  east,  and  is  blocked  up  with  ice 
half  the  year. 

So  we  began  our  journey  down  this  railroad  — 
with  destination  at  an  immeasurable  distance  of  both 
time  and  space  —  judged  by  our  own  feelings ! 

At  least  we  were  pretty  well  insured  against  star- 
vation. We  had  with  foresight  purchased  a  two- 
weeks'  "  picnic  "  ration  in  London,  the  ship  had  given 
every  passenger  a  generous  allowance  of  food,  and 
then  Halsey  had  halved  his  larder  with  us;  besides 
all  this,  we  wise  ones  had  laid  in  a  secret  supply  of 
jams  and  chocolate  that  was  tucked  away  in  the 
corners  of  our  trunks  and  bags. 

In  order  to  take  all  our  baggage  with  us,  we 
traveled  to  Moscow  in  a  freight  car,  hobo-fourth- 
class,  or  to  be  precise,  in  a  tepluska,  which  means  in 
Russian :  a  freight  car  with  a  stove  in  it.  There  were 
four  wide  shelves,  two  on  a  side,  with  room  in  the 
center  for  the  stove  and  wood.  At  each  upper  cor- 
ner was  a  sliding  window,  forty  by  fifteen  inches,  and 
in  the  center  were  sliding  doors  on  each  side.  Some 


ENTERING  A  NEW  RUSSIA  31 

of  the  party  thought  that  others  often  "  hogged  " 
the  view  at  these  advantageous  apertures.  Packed 
in  such  a  traveling  carriage  were  eleven  Americans, 
an  interpreter  and  two  other  Russian  fellow-officers 
of  the  old  army,  together  with  trunks,  duffle-bags, 
bed-rolls,  boxes,  and  suitcases,  in  such  quantity  as 
to  constitute  us  plutocrats  in  that  country,  no  mat- 
ter how  unkempt  the  state  of  our  beards.  I  was 
assigned  to  the  steerage  deck  (a  lower  shelf)  along 
with  Woody,  Beekman,  and  the  Russians.  We 
under-dogs  slept  on  two  trunks,  apiece.  In  this  posi- 
tion of  outcast,  I  found  it  some  reason  to  be  thankful 
that  it  was  on  my  own  trunk  that  I  reposed  the  half 
of  me.  To  be  sure,  we  were  offered  a  seat  occasion- 
ally on  the  top  shelf,  even  a  seat  at  times  near  a  port- 
hole window,  to  be  accepted,  however,  in  a  "  by  your 
leave"  spirit.  Till  our  journey's  end  and  a  re- 
assignment of  sleeping-places  took  place,  we  not  on 
the  upper  shelf  remained  in  our  feelings,  "  steerage 
passengers ! " 

The  stove  kept  us  warm  enough.  At  night,  with 
my  head  only  four  feet  away  from  it,  it  kept  me  too 
warm.  On  this  stove  our  meals  were  irregularly 
cooked,  and  then  distributed  in  scrupulously  just  por- 
tions by  the  cook  and  his  assistant-for-the-meal,  to 
each  man  as  he  sat  in  his  appointed  place. 

We  stopped  at  all  the  stations,  several  hours'  ride 
apart,  for  wood  and  water  for  the  engine.  Most  of 
the  rolling  stock  of  this  railroad  and  the  great 
Mallet  locomotives,  fitted  to  burn  wood,  came  from 
America.  It  made  one  unhappy  to  see  so  much 


32        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

precious  wood  consumed  for  firing  an  engine,  yet  the 
point  is  that  the  wood  is  not  precious  there.  Wood 
is  used  as  fuel  on  all  railroads  of  North  Russia,  large 
stocks  of  wood  being  piled  near  the  tracks  at  certain 
stations.  The  passengers  help  themselves  to  this 
wood,  also,  to  replenish  the  stoves  of  their  tepluskas. 
There  was  great  competition  among  the  members  of 
our  party  for  the  pleasure  of  splitting  our  wood 
during  waits  at  stations. 

At  the  stations  we  all  alighted  to  scurry  about; 
some  for  wood,  some  to  join  the  line  at  the  Kypiatok 
(hot-water  tank),  some  just  to  scurry  about.  We 
used  the  hot  water  for  tea,  as  did  the  Russians.  Tea 
and  black  bread  were  all  the  Russians  on  the  train 
seemed  to  have  to  live  on.  At  the  large  station 
restaurants  the  Russians  in  our  tepluska,  however, 
bought  small  delicious  native  birds  and  other  special 
Russian  food  which  they  delighted  to  talk  about  and 
share  with  us. 

The  inhabitants  of  this  sparsely-settled  country 
are  nearly  all  employees  of  the  railroad.  Many  of 
them,  especially  the  young  men,  evidently  flocked  to 
the  station  to  see  every  train  come  in ;  there  were 
three  through  trains  a  week.  We  saw  in  the  villages 
many  of  the  Chinese  who  had  originally  been  brought 
there  as  road-builders.  One  wondered  what  place 
they  might  occupy  in  the  new  social  regimentation. 
At  each  station  was  a  group  of  about  fifteen  or 
twenty  log  buildings,  all  new,  and  surprisingly  well- 
built  and  neat;  in  some  places  scattered  at  different 


ENTERING  A  NEW  RUSSIA  33 

elevations  in  a  pine  grove,  they  made  a  good  subject 
for  a  canvas. 

So  were  the  incisive  colors  of  that  country  such 
as  to  arouse  the  passions  of  an  artist.  I  never 
wearied  of  looking  out  through  the  half-open  door- 
way, or,  on  rare  occasions,  through  a  port-hole  win- 
dow, at  the  landscape:  olive-green,  straight,  slender 
pines,  of  man-size  only  at  the  Murmansk  end;  shin- 
ing, white  mountains;  long  white  lakes  that,  even 
then,  nearly  May,  were  still  being  used  as  high  roads 
of  ice ;  sunset  colors  fading  only  a  brief  time  before 
the  first  light  of  very  early  dawn. 

Near  Kandalaksha,  it  was,  I  think,  that  we  had 
to  wait  a  whole  night  in  the  fear  that  if  we  pro- 
ceeded we  might  be  attacked  by  Finnish  bands, 
directed  by  Germans  who  hoped  to  break  communi- 
cations along  this  road. 

At  Petrozavodsk  we  had  a  delay  of  six  hours  which 
nearly  all  the  Americans  improved  for  a  visit  to  our 
first  town  of  any  size.  Returning  from  this  inspec- 
tion with  Bonta,  I  recall  standing  on  an  eminence 
overlooking  the  town  and  the  spreading  Lake  Onega. 
Dominating  everything  was  the  pinnacle  of  the  big 
church,  glittering  green  in  the  soft  early-afternoon 
sunlight,  a  symbol  of  Russian  community  life  for 
centuries.  It  has  been  the  materials  of  the  one 
church,  whether  of  wood  or  of  brick,  or  where  more 
than  one,  the  number  of  churches,  that  has  deter- 
mined the  classification  of  a  Russian  habitation  as 
celo,  volost,  or  gorod.  The  church  has  stood  for 


34        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  life  of  the  people-together.  Now,  since  the  revo- 
lution, this  Russian  people-together  had  taken  great 
steps.  The  country  over-night  had  become  socialist. 
We  had  been  traveling  hundreds  of  miles  in  a  coun- 
try where,  as  a  fact,  land,  buildings,  and  railroads, 
all  were  common  wealth.  Yet,  undoubtedly,  busi- 
ness was  being  carried  on.  Up  there  in  the  latitude 
of  Alaska  we  were  being  carried  across  swamps  and 
virgin  wild  country ;  in  places  the  train  just  crawled 
as  it  passed  over  crooked  stretches  which  even  then 
were  being  made  straight;  a  great  deal  was  being 
done  to  raise  and  straighten  the  road-bed :  somebody 
was  working.  We  were  proceeding  on  our  journey; 
small  matter  the  delays !  Now  the  question  upper- 
most in  my  mind  was  how  social  life  was  moving  in 
Russia.  Who  and  what  was  the  new  regime?  Was 
it  representative  of  the  people-together,  the  people 
symbolized  in  the  Petrozavodsk  church  tower,  or  was 
it  representative  only  of  a  part  of  the  people- 
together?  Here  was  the  problem  with  which  Russia 
confronted  me ! 

In  Moscow,  where  we  arrived  after  an  exciting  six 
days'  journey,  that  problem  became  at  once  acute. 
We  found  the  city  gayly  decorated  for  a  May  First 
celebration  held  the  day  before.  I  inquired  about 
this  celebration.  "  They  had  had  the  biggest  parade 
the  city  ever  saw,"  I  was  informed,  "  but  the  enthusi- 
asm wasn't  genuine;  the  people  aren't  really  with 
the  Bolsheviks;  the  Bolsheviks  had  to  force  citizens 
to  join  this  parade;  there  isn't  the  enthusiasm  about 
the  revolution  there  was  at  first ;  the  people  are  tired 


ENTERING  A  NEW  RUSSIA  35 

of  revolution;  they  want  bread."  Hearing  such  an 
interpretation  of  the  Russian  dictatorship  of  the 
proletariat,  I  began  to  speculate  about  the  growth 
of  minority  movements  in  history.  Granted  Bolshe- 
vism was  a  minority  movement,  had  it  struck  a 
policy  and  uttered  a  battle  cry  that  would  draw  the 
masses  to  its  support  ultimately?  Were  the  Bol- 
shevik leaders  seers,  or  were  they  only  blind  leaders 
of  the  blind? 

The  next  day  I  decided  they  were  blind  leaders. 
I  could  not  go  about  to  see  the  sights  of  the  city 
because  all  the  tram-car  workers  had  declared  the 
church  holiday  was  to  be  a  complete  holiday  for 
themselves  as  well  as  for  the  rest  of  the  citizenry. 
This  big,  glaring  instance  of  personal  discomfort  for 
me,  made  me  for  that  day  impatient  with  the  dicta- 
torship of  the  proletariat.  But  that  particular  sort 
of  independence  on  the  part  of  the  tram-car  em- 
ployees did  not  annoy  the  citizens  of  Moscow  again ; 
for  the  workers,  not  tram-car  employees,  were  after 
all  in  a  majority,  and  they  saw  to  it  that  thereafter 
the  tram-car  people  reckoned  with  their  duty  to  the 
public  as  well  as  with  their  duty  to  themselves.  In 
witnessing  this  tram-car  stoppage  and  its  lessons  for 
the  citizens,  I  was  compelled  to  realize  that  I  was 
in  a  country  of  primitive  things,  where  first-starts 
and  their  failures  were  to  discipline  a  people  most 
roughly.  I  gained  a  belief,  too,  that  the  social  move- 
ment at  work  in  Russia  was  to  involve  the  whole 
people,  and  that,  before  it  ceased,  it  was  to  express 
the  whole  people. 


KAZAN:  SUMMER  OF  1918 

It  was  May  5th,  1918.  As  the  big  Volga  steam- 
ship came  to  a  standstill,  Woody  and  I  argued  where 
we  might  be;  it  turned  out  I  was  right;  we  had 
arrived  at  Kazan.  The  two  of  us  had  a  Russian  cart- 
load of  baggage ;  you  could  not  put  on  one  of  these 
frail  Russian  carts  more  than  one  horse  could  carry. 
We  rode  ourselves  on  top  of  the  trunks  and  bags 
three  miles,  from  the  preestin  (wharves)  to  the  city, 
which  we  could  see  all  the  while  with  its  walled  Krem- 
lin at  the  top  gleaming  in  the  sun.  Kazan  is  a  city 
of  three  hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  the  capital  of 
a  fertile  province  of  the  same  name,  and  one  of 
Russia's  important  cities  commercially ;  yet  there  is 
no  modern  method  of  moving  freight  from  the  river 
to  its  business  section. 

Kazan  was  captured  from  the  Tartars  in  1552  by 
Ivan  the  Terrible.  The  Tartar  folks  have  remained 
in  the  city,  comprising  now  probably  one-third  of 
its  total  population.  In  the  Kremlin  stands  a  high 
tower  built  in  the  Tartar  style,  from  which  the 
Mohammedan  crescent  was  removed  for  a  Russian 
cross  when  the  city  changed  hands.  At  the  time  the 
Bolsheviks  came  into  power,  in  order  to  symbolize 
the  participation  of  all  elements  of  the  population 
equally  in  the  government,  including  even  the  subju- 
gated dark  folks,  the  Tartar  Mongolians,  the  Bol- 

36 


KAZAN:  SUMMER  OF  1918  37 

sheviks  removed  the  Russian  cross  from  this  ancient 
tower  and  restored  the  Mohammedan  crescent.  I 
was  told  this  story  of  the  tower  by  one  of  the  en- 
raged Russian  bourgeoisie.  It  is  easy  to  distinguish 
the  Tartars  by  their  Mongolian  features ;  invariably, 
too,  the  men  wear  black  turban  hats.  I  often  visited 
the  Tartar  markets,  crowded  together  in  the  Tartar 
section  of  the  city,  and  admired  their  laces,  scarves, 
caps  and  shoes,  justly  renowned  for  beauty  and  fine 
workmanship. 

In  the  Kremlin,  the  heart  of  the  city  for  centuries, 
are  the  treasure-houses  of  its  history.  Parts  of  the 
ancient  fortress  wall  were  pointed  out  to  me.  My 
Russian  friend  who  became  my  guide  there  had  a 
mind  with  an  ecclesiastical  bent.  He  informed  me 
how  the  earliest  and  most  venerated  icons  of  the 
Cathedral  Church  were  brought  on  foot  from  Mother 
Moscow  with  the  continuous  singing  of  a  band  of 
the  faithful.  He  took  me  to  a  shrine  beside  the 
Cathedral  Church,  a  small  cell  too  low  for  any  person 
to  stand  up  straight  in,  where  the  first  bishop  of 
Kazan  spent  his  latter  days,  refusing  to  leave  it  for 
any  cause  and  having  bread  and  water  brought  to 
him  there.  For  such  and  such  similar  sanctities,  the 
man  was  venerated  in  life  and  canonized  after  death. 
In  the  Kremlin,  also,  is  an  old  monastery,  founded 
by  the  first  bishop,  I  believe.  Its  long  dormitory 
faces  a  garden,  and  has  a  view  over  the  Volga  valley 
for  miles,  the  best  view  in  the  city.  Here  were  in- 
tellectual monks,  I  was  informed;  a  schedule  of  spe- 
cial public  lectures  posted  in  one  of  their  halls  showed 


38        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

that,  at  least,  they  were  interested  in  current  topics 
such  as  the  revolution  and  socialism. 

Then,  our  set  sight-seeing  being  concluded  for  the 
time,  we  scrambled  down  the  steep,  rocky  sides  of 
the  Kremlin,  symbol  of  the  city's  Past,  and  were  con- 
fronted, incongruously,  with  —  was  it  symbolical  of 
the  city's  Present?  —  crowds  of  Saturday-afternoon 
people  —  peasants  in  native  dress  sprinkled  showily 
among  them  —  walking  in  the  mud  about  the  several 
attractions  of  what  they  called  an  Americanski 
Circus:  clowns,  acrobats,  side-shows,  fakers,  and  a 
merry-go-round.  The  Russians  like  such  fast-and- 
queerly-moving  American  Things  as  these,  which  ap- 
peal magically  to  a  kindred  savagery  in  themselves; 
Jack  London  is  another  American  Thing  with  such 
an  appeal.  I  was  told  that  an  American  clown  had 
become  the  great  drawing-card  at  The  Circus,  one 
of  the  most  popular  amusement  places  of  the  city. 

The  city  was  modernized  in  essential  ways,  in  the 
European  if  not  in  the  American,  sense,  except  that 
there  were  no  sewers.  The  streets  were  roughly 
paved,  generally  with  cobble  stones.  All  buildings 
had  electricity;  telephones  were  common,  although, 
in  some  parts  of  the  city,  unreliable  after  the  revolu- 
tion. The  public  buildings  were  of  simple  lines, 
substantially  constructed,  and  sometimes  quite  im- 
posing. The  buildings  of  the  National  Bank  were 
among  the  finest  in  all  the  Russian  cities,  the  most 
notable  being  that  at  Nishni  Novgorod.  The  Kazan 
branch  of  this  bank  held  the  gold  reserve  of  the 
Empire,  which  was  moved  away  to  Siberia  by  the 


KAZAN:  SUMMER  OF  1918  39 

Czechs  when  they  captured  the  city.  Among  the 
best  buildings  were  the  high  schools,  the  Technical 
High  School,  of  which  the  American  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
had  the  use  in  the  evening,  and  the  Commercial 
School. 

Kazan  University,  the  third-oldest  in  the  empire, 
continued  its  work  in  spite  of  political  changes,  al- 
though its  faculty,  I  was  given  to  understand,  were 
chiefly  Cadets  bitterly  hostile  to  the  Bolsheviks. 
The  imperial  arms  had  been  removed  from  the  top 
of  the  high  columns  at  the  entrance,  and  the  re- 
sources of  the  institution  put  at  the  service  of  a 
people's  branch  of  the  university.  A  raise  in  the 
salaries  of  the  professors  was  voted  by  the  City 
Soviet  that  summer. 

•Kazan  had  not  been  put  on  food-rations  before  I 
left  in  July,  1918.  This  part  of  the  country  should 
be  richly  self-sustaining,  if  the  peasants  could  be 
induced  to  yield  up  their  produce ;  the  people  of  the 
province  were  expecting,  and  I  understand  they  had, 
a  good  harvest  that  August  and  September.  Prices 
were  high  except  at  cooperative  and  government 
stores,  because  speculation  was  quite  unrestricted. 
A  good  deal  appeared  in  the  Soviet  newspapers  about 
the  food-profiteers,  but  means  had  not  been  found  at 
that  time  to  curb  them.  Black  bread  was  25  cents 
a  pound,  white  bread  40  cents,  butter  $1.40,  and 
cheese  and  honey  about  the  same.  Berries  in  season 
were  relatively  cheap  and  plentiful.  Fish  were  easy 
to  obtain.  At  the  restaurants  one  could  eat  a  good 
meat  dinner  for  70  cents,  and  at  the  Vegetarian 


40        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

Restaurant,  the  walls  of  which  were  adorned  with 
photographs  and  mottoes  of  Tolstoy,  one  could 
order  a  meal  of  three  or  four  courses  for  40  cents. 

The  population  did  not  appear  to  be  saddened  by 
the  war  and  the  revolution,  unless  one  was  exclusively 
with  the  upper  classes,  who,  indeed,  for  the  most  part 
gave  themselves  over  freely  to  lament,  and  to  fear 
worse  times.  In  the  shady  ill-kept  park  in  the 
center  of  the  city  one  saw  children  gather  daily  for 
supervised  games,  and  every  evening  one  saw  there 
well-dressed  crowds  of  young  people  promenading. 
Admittance  to  the  park  was  obtained  only  by  paying 
a  small  fee,  whenever  a  band  concert  or  a  booth-fair 
was  held  there  for  benefit  of  some  war  or  charitable 
organization.  Mordkin,  whom  I  had  last  seen  danc- 
ing with  Pavlowa  in  "  Giselle  "  at  the  Boston  Opera 
House,  appeared  twice  on  his  Volga  tour  at  Kazan 
to  packed  houses  and  at  what  seemed  prohibitive 
prices.  The  Moscow  Art  Theater  Company,  also  on 
tour,  gave  a  finished  performance  of  Gorki's  "  In  the 
Depths  "  at  the  big  City  Theater.  In  the  box  op- 
posite ours  sat  the  President  of  the  Kazan  Soviet 
with  his  family  and  guests. 

I  was  surprised  to  find  the  family  with  which  I 
lived  so  little  affected  by  the  revolution.  The  owner 
of  the  house  was  a  famous  surgeon,  known  for  his 
charitable  cases,  and  on  that  account  allowed  to  keep 
the  use  of  all  his  rooms.  My  family  living  down- 
stairs in  his  house  were  forced  to  share  their  rooms 
with  me;  that  is,  having  to  take  in  somebody  to 
share  their  large  quarters  according  to  soviet  law, 


KAZAN:  SUMMER  OF  1918  41 

they  were  glad  to  have  me.  Their  furniture  and 
personal  effects,  however,  were  absolutely  untouched, 
their  meals  were  better  than  the  70-cent  dinners  at 
the  restaurants,  and,  as  luxuries,  they  had  a  barrel 
of  white  flour  and,  secretly,  three  bottles  of  wine  a 
day.  In  June  they  went  to  live  at  their  datcha 
(villa)  in  a  summer- village  about  twenty  miles  away. 
There  they  could  buy  fresh  vegetables  and  fish,  and 
swim  every  day  in  the  Volga  River.  The  afternoon 
I  spent  visiting  them,  I  sat  long  on  the  beach,  and 
enjoyed  watching  the  vacationists  in  the  water;  the 
fishermen  mending  their  interminably  long  nets  on  the 
shore;  the  fast  steamers  and  the  slow  freight-boats, 
passing ;  and  the  wide  Russian  landscape,  given  char- 
acter by  the  presence  of  the  mighty  river. 

My  first  few  nights  in  the  city  I  heard  shooting  on 
the  streets,  but  after  that  witnessed  no  signs  of  dis- 
order. Citizens  were  organized  into  a  guard  for 
night-watches.  All  the  automobiles  in  the  city  were 
in  the  use  of  the  local  soviet,  and  never  have  I  seen 
machines  driven  along  the  streets  so  recklessly.  The 
ban  against  beggars  had  not  become  a  soviet  decree 
at  that  time,  and  at  many  of  the  street  corners  these 
ancient  pests  were  stationed.  Once  in  the  central 
park  on  my  way  down-town  a  troupe  of  eight  beg- 
gars, that  looked  needy  enough,  actually  beset  me 
behind  and  before,  and  when  I  returned  up-town  later 
I  was  waylaid  by  the  same  band.  There  was  a  com- 
mittee against  Counter-Revolution  as  in  other  cities, 
and  I  knew  of  two  of  its  victims,  young  ex-officers  who 
were  admittedly  plotting  the  overthrow  of  the  Bol- 


42        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

sheviks.  There  was  an  election  in  the  city  that  sum- 
mer in  which  the  Bolsheviks  led  the  poll,  with  the 
Left-Social-Revolutionaries  second,  and  Mensheviks 
and  Right-Social-Revolutionaries  far  behind;  the 
non-socialist  parties  received  no  votes.  Non-Bol- 
shevik newspapers  sprang  up  of  a  night,  often  openly 
counter-revolutionary  or  anti-government,  but  were 
suppressed  after  one  or  two  issues. 

Conscription  for  the  Red  Army  began  in  July.  I 
heard  how  one  poor  prospective  recruit  was  chased 
into  a  river.  The  levy  officers  debated  whether  to 
shoot  at  him  as  he  escaped,  but  decided  on  the  sug- 
gestion of  a  passerby  to  let  him  go.  The  day  I  left 
the  city  I  saw  a  group  of  frightened  boys  about 
twenty  years  of  age  being  led  to  army  headquarters. 
This  sort  of  violence  illustrated  the  real  plight  of 
Russia,  however  peaceful  her  cities  may  have  seemed 
to  a  foreign  eye  on  a  summer  day.  Kazan  was  cap- 
tured by  the  Czechs  and  anti-Bolsheviks  the  first  of 
August  and  recaptured  by  the  Bolsheviks  about  a 
month  later.  Very  likely  my  family  in  the  surgeon's 
house  lived  on  calmly  through  changes  of  government 
with  their  barrel  of  white  flour  and  their  three  secret 
bottles  of  wine  a  day. 


WOOD  FLAME 

AN  IMAGINARY  STORY  OF  THE 
VOLGA  RIVER 

The  telegram  had  at  last  come  through  from 
Jaroslav,  being  forwarded  to  me  from  Kazan,  where 
I  had  expected  to  be  all  this  time !  As  the  messenger 
handed  it  to  me,  even  before  I  had  seen  Maria  Ivan- 
ovna's  name  on  it,  I  had  a  conviction  that  it  was 
important.  Now  a  telegram's  delay  of  ten  days, 
like  this,  does  not  matter  so  much  if  it  is  a  business 
telegram,  for  in  these  days  when  there  is  little  busi- 
ness, business  may  as  well  move  slowly ;  but  telegrams 
of  Maria  Ivanovna  are  the  most  important  of  all; 
Maria  Ivanovna  is  the  dearest  of  all  my  children  — 
she  grows  to  be  like  her  mother  at  thirty !  This 
message  of  hers  was :  "  Come  home  at  once  the  news- 
papers will  explain  why." 

I  knew  what  the  newspapers  had  been  saying  about 
the  city  of  Jaroslav.  Since  the  first  reports,  when 
the  telegram  had  been  dispatched,  rumor  had  multi- 
plied on  rumor.  I  could  not  be  less  apprehensive  if 
all  were  verified,  for  any  one  rumor  or  a  part  of  one 
was  bad  enough.  The  White  Guards  had  taken  the 
town  by  a  conspiracy,  these  rumors  began.  Then 
the  Red  Guards  came  from  the  other  cities  and  laid 

43 


siege,  they  took  the  Volga  bridge,  they  took  a  section 
of  the  city.  There  were  bloody  battles ;  the  priests 
defended  their  bell-towers  with  mounted  guns;  bell- 
towers  and  priests  toppled  together;  other  public 
buildings  were  destroyed!  Then  German  and  Aus- 
trian war-prisoners  came  as  a  third  party  to  the 
destruction;  some  said,  a  real  third-party,  seeking 
to  capture  the  city  in  the  name  of  the  Kaiser.  Then 
we  heard  that  fires  were  sweeping  the  place,  that 
only  a  third  was  left  standing !  Do  you  wonder  that, 
caught  in  Simbirsk  and  unable  to  procure  permis- 
sion to  go  north,  I  was  turned  half  madman?  For 
I  am  a  householder  who  looks  after  my  property  and 
my  family.  In  such  a  time  I  should  be  with  my 
property  and  my  family. 

I  think  this  of  mine  was  the  last  telegram  re- 
ceived that  month  in  Simbirsk  from  the  North.  An 
hour  after  the  arrival  of  the  telegram  there  was  a 
scattered  firing  from  the  guns  on  the  hill;  only  a 
pretense  of  defense,  and  the  Red  Armiests  were  leav- 
ing the  town  precipitately.  At  the  wharves  was  a 
panic.  People  tumbling  over  themselves  and  their 
baggage  in  their  eagerness  to  embark.  Neverthe- 
less, I  was  successful  in  crowding  my  way  into  one 
of  the  first  of  the  departing  boats.  There  was  no 
question  of  the  official  permissions  for  departure 
then.  The  very  man  who  had  refused  me  a  permis- 
sion every  day  for  a  week  past,  the  debonair  young 
Commissar  of  Foreign  Affairs,  came  on  board,  himself 
a  fugitive,  at  Undoree,  the  first  stop  beyond  Sim- 


WOOD  FLAME  45 

birsk,  and  took  up  a  position  beside  me  in  third 
class. 

This  was  the  first  time  I  ever  traveled  third-class. 
My  fellow-passengers  were  a  familiar  enough  sight, 
mostly  peasants  who  had  gone  down  the  river  to  get 
flour  and  were  now  returning  with  all  that  the  law 
would  allow.  I  had  known  the  peasantry  since  my 
boyhood  when  I  had  played  with  the  peasant  boys  on 
my  grandfather's  estate:  I  had  had  great  respect 
for  these  boys  who  excelled  me  in  sports ;  nevertheless, 
I  will  admit  I  secretly  half  begrudged  them  their 
liberation  from  slavery,  which  had  taken  place  the 
year  I  was  born. 

I  had  chosen  as  the  most  ventilated  part  of  this 
pack  of  humanity  on  the  lower  floor  of  the  big  boat, 
the  open  deck  at  the  stern.  Here  one  was  directly 
under  the  heavens:  he  received  sunlight,  starlight, 
ancj  showers  as  they  came.  Showers  came  twice,  and 
I  was  glad  of  the  protection  of  half  the  Commissar's 
soldier's  overcoat.  At  night,  my  pillow,  a  bag  of 
meal,  was  shared  with  four  other  heads.  During 
the  whole  voyage,  some  one  I  think  was  always  asleep 
up  against  that  bag  of  meal.  I  had  come  away  in 
such  a  hurry  that  I  had  brought  no  food  with  me, 
but  the  Lord  provided:  as  a  matter  of  course,  the 
Bolshevik  and  I  became  guests  at  meals  of  a  hearty, 
stout  peasant  lady,  who  seemed  always  to  be  nursing 
a  baby,  even  when  pouring  out  tea  for  us.  She  had 
two  other  children  along  with  her.  The  bag  of 
meal  was  hers ;  it  was  her  family,  the  Commissar  and 


I,  who  were  pillow-mates.  The  Commissar  had  bread 
and  cheese  —  the  best  black  bread  I  ever  tasted, 
made,  he  said,  by  his  goreetchnia.  He  had  other 
good  tilings  prepared  by  this  benefactress,  among 
which  were  quantities  of  sugared  cookies;  such  a 
rarity  in  these  days !  All  these  things  he  drew  from 
a  little  plaid  bag,  in  which  he  seemed  to  have  every 
necessary  article  for  a  month  of  traveling. 

I  don't  wonder  that  his  goreetchnia  made  hirn 
sugar  cookies.  He  won  even  my  temperate  heart 
soon  after  the  boat  steamed  away  from  the  hillside 
village  of  Undoree.  He  was  short  and  thick-set; 
his  cheeks  were  full ;  his  lips,  large ;  his  face  was  un- 
shaven for  several  days,  and  his  wavy,  brown  hair 
was  uncombed.  His  eyes  were  a  pale  blue  and 
dreamy.  The  whole  lower  part  of  his  face  combined 
with  the  eyes  to  give  the  impression  of  a  care-free, 
light-thoughted  son  of  Adam.  He  smiled  constantly 
as  he  talked  in  an  engaging,  slow,  somewhat-husky 
voice. 

In  response  to  the  immediate  interest  I  took  in 
him,  he  volunteered  his  own  story.  It  did  not  con- 
cern him  to  know  first  my  political  views.  He  was 
so  ingenious  about  his  own,  that  before  our  journey 
together  was  finished,  I  had  confided  to  him  just  how 
bitter  a  counter-revolutionary  I  really  was.  His 
name  was  Nicolai  Timofevitch  Asakaloff.  He  was 
Ukrainian,  his  native  city  being  Kieff.  When  the 
war  broke  out  he  was  assistant-engineer  running 
locomotives  in  a  Kieff  freight-yard.  He  was  com- 
mandeered to  run  supply  trains  at  the  front  in 


WOOD  FLAME  47 

Poland,  and  later,  out  in  several  directions  from 
Minsk.  He  knew  all  about  locomotives,  he  said. 
He  compared  American,  German,  and  Russian  en- 
gines :  the  Russian  were  the  best  on  the  whole.  I  can 
believe  he  knows  an  infinite  deal  about  the  locomo- 
tive, or  will  know.  He  would  have  continued  the 
subject  all  night  I  suppose  but  for  the  intervention 
of  the  nursing  peasant  —  I  was  less  interested  in 
engines  than  he  thought,  but  so  eager  was  his  man- 
ner of  conversation  that  I  could  have  enjoyed  it  if 
he  had  chosen  a  topic  even  more  indifferent  —  he 
talked  with  his  whole  body  expressively. 

The  peasant-mother  intervened  to  invite  us  to  tea. 
I  had  just  watched  her,  as  she  went  for  hot  water 
with  a  battered  tin  kettle,  wriggle  her  way  through 
groups  standing  and  groups  sitting  to  the  kypiatok 
in  the  dark  bowels  of  the  boat;  there  was  no  other 
passage-way  than  the  one  she  made  for  herself,  in 
that  seething  crowd  of  fellow-travelers.  During  her 
absence  the  young  Commissar  had  held  her  baby  with 
one  hand,  with  the  other  gesticulating  about  his 
engines.  We  all  arranged  ourselves  for  tea  as  if 
conditions  were  more  propitious:  turned  a  cramped 
leg,  and  straightened  out  our  clothes;  the  two  little 
girls  smoothed  their  laps  as  if  to  put  napkins  on 
them  as  at  a  children's  party.  Nicolai  Timofevitch 
drew  out  of  his  plaid  bag  an  extra  glass  for  me ;  the 
peasant  family  had  two  glasses,  the  girls  shared  one ; 
the  infant  had  just  had  refreshment  and  was  about 
to  enjoy  more.  The  mother  gave  to  all  of  us  some 
of  her  white  bread;  to  Nicolai,  the  largest  portion. 


48        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

It  seemed  to  me  that  Nicolai's  black  bread  with  but- 
ter and  cheese  was  the  finest  delicacy  I  had  ever 
tasted.  Nicolai  continued  to  keep  the  direction  of 
the  talk.  He  started  our  hostess  off  on  a  story  of 
the  experience  of  her  husband  with  farm  machinery. 
This  stalwart  woman  knew  whereof  she  was  talking: 
it  was  easy  to  gather  that  she  was  as  much  the  help- 
mate of  her  man  in  the  field  as  about  the  hearth. 

As  we  talked  the  boat  approached  Tetjushee. 
Suddenly  came  a  shot  out  of  a  clear  sky  across  the 
stern.  The  peasant  woman  crossed  herself,  thank- 
ing God  for  deliverance;  I  followed  her  example; 
Nicolai  turning  to  me,  smiled,  and  rushed  with  nearly 
all  the  others  to  the  landward  side  of  the  boat  to  see 
what  was  happening.  The  Soviet  guard  was  com- 
:  ig  aboard.  Everybody  pulled  out  his  permission 
paper.  The  soldiers  simply  looked  around  at  us 
down  in  third  class :  I  could  not  have  chosen  a  safer 
place.  I  avoided  the  eyes  of  the  guards,  though,  I 
am  sure,  there  was  nothing  suspicious  about  my 
appearance.  I  know  how  to  look  the  workman; 
just  a  few  touches  give  the  disguise:  a  little  pulling- 
down  of  the  hat-brim,  a  little  pulling-up  of  the  coat- 
collar. 

We  two  prepared  ourselves  to  sleep  about  dark, 
eleven  by  the  new  time.  The  peasant  mother  and 
children  had  long  before  settled  for  the  night.  It 
was  soft  starlight.  The  water  lapped  the  sides  of 
the  boat  as  it  steadily  forced  its  path.  First  and 
second-class  passengers  could  be  seen  now  and  then 
walking  around  their  decks  above.  Below,  with  us, 


WOOD  FLAME  49 

most  had  curled  up  among  their  bags  to  sleep  — 
there  was  not  room  to  stretch  full-length.  A  few,  in 
two  different  groups,  were  still  talking,  the  moving 
tips  of  their  cigarettes  throwing  a  light  that  made 
their  faces  appear  unreal.  Several  rafts  passed  us, 
and  the  boatmen  on  them  were  singing  their  songs  I 
love.  Out  of  the  night  came  those  songs,  accompanied 
by  a  splash  of  oars :  songs  unearthly,  half-lament,  ex- 
pressing vague  beauty  —  a  hope,  only  a  hope  of 
something  good  from  fate.  Nicolai,  humming  one  of 
these  chants  long  after  the  singers  were  passed  by, 
put  himself  to  sleep.  It  was  not  a  cold  night  as 
summer  nights  on  a  Volga  boat  go,  but  I  did  not 
object  when  Nicolai  had  thrown  half  his  purple-gray 
soldier's  ulster  over  me.  The  coat  did  not  seem  to 
give  as  much  heat  as  his  body,  wedged  in  close  to 
mine.  The  general  odor  from  that  sleeping  mass 
around  me  was  not,  I  suppose,  exactly  salubrious; 
though,  to  confess  the  truth,  I  was  not  as  much 
troubled  by  it  as  a  man  of  my  class  should  have 
been.  Besides  I  was  looking  up  at  the  stars ;  it  was 
them  I  saw,  not  the  sleeping  mass ;  my  head  was  very 
close  on  the  meal-sack  to  Nicolai's  and  his  breathing 
was  odorless,  just  agreeable  sound! 

The  peasant  lady  awakened  me  for  tea  in  the 
morning  by  a  vigorous  tug  at  the  elbow.  I  am  sure 
she  would  have  let  Nicolai  sleep  on,  if  it  had  been  he 
who  was  the  sleepy-head.  Her  partiality  for  him 
was  not  in  words,  but  evident  enough.  I  did  not 
mind.  She  knew  I  did  not  mind.  Nicolai  had  al- 
ready made  many  friends  in  the  stern.  He  had  a 


50         SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

way  with  these  people.  It  was  no  great  matter  to 
him,  I  believe,  whether  he  was  third-class  or  first. 
He  was  third-class  now,  as  was  I,  because  there  had 
been  no  other  accommodations. 

We  were  drawing  near  to  the  landings  at  Kazan. 
By  pre-arrangement,  our  peasant  family  spread 
themselves  out  to  keep  our  places  for  us,  and  Nicolai 
and  I  pressed  our  way  off  the  boat.  It  was  a  relief 
to  move  our  big  muscles  freely  again.  Stationed 
amid  the  traffickers  lining  the  bridge  to  the  wharf 
was  a  lovely  child  selling  wooden  spoons,  souvenirs  of 
Kazan.  Just  for  the  chance  to  talk  with  her,  and 
for  having  nothing  to  do,  I  negotiated  for  a  spoon. 
Nicolai  bought  cigarettes,  fruit  water,  and  honey  in 
the  comb.  As  we  were  standing  on  the  wharf  bridge 
smoking,  of  a  sudden  he  pressed  my  hand  gently. 
It  was  an  involuntary  movement  of  his,  a  signal  to 
a  pal  —  it  was  years  since  I  had  felt  such  a  pres- 
sure. I  looked  in  the  same  direction  as  he,  but  was 
too  late :  a  young  woman  had  passed  and  was  already 
half-hidden  by  those  passing  after  her  to  the  boat. 
Nicolai  remarked :  "  Beautiful  large  eyes,  beauti- 
ful! "  and  without  more  turned  to  chat  with  an  ugly 
beggar  that  interested  him.  In  my  mind  I  was  seeing 
those  beautiful  large  eyes  of  my  daughter  Maria 
Ivanovna,  and  the  eyes  of  her  mother.  Had  any 
harm  befallen  my  family  in  Jaroslav? 

I  had  most  cause  to  worry  about  my  son  Michail, 
a  hot-headed  young  officer,  who  was  sure  to  have 
taken  part  with  the  White  Guards  in  the  uprising. 
To  him,  if  the  uprising  failed,  the  Bolsheviks  would 


WOOD  FLAME  51 

show  no  mercy.  I  was  ready  to  believe  the  worst 
tales  of  Jaroslav.  I  am  not  a  skeptic  as  to  the 
brutality  of  man  toward  man.  I  have  witnessed 
more  than  one  pogrom  against  the  Jews  —  in  fact, 
I  once  helped  to  organize  a  mild  one ;  I  have  witnessed 
the  ferocity  of  strikes,  and  in  the  course  of  one  in 
1905,  barely  escaped  assassination;  in  1915  and 
1916  I  was  commandant  in  certain  towns  of  Lith- 
uania when  they  were  recaptured  from  the  Germans, 
and  the  complaints  brought  to  me  of  outrages  com- 
mitted by  our  soldiers,  though  exaggerated  to  some 
extent  by  those  suffering  the  invasion,  should  attest 
the  fact  that  man  can  be  a  beast.  My  wife  insists 
I  am  a  pessimist,  but,  myself,  I  believe  we  ought  to 
be  honest  with  ourselves  and  admit  that  we've  got 
the  brute  in  man  to  calculate  for. 

The  wharf  bells  rang  for  the  departure  of  the 
boat ;  Nicolai  took  my  arm  and  hurried  me  back  to 
our  peasant  friends;  and  I  ceased  to  imagine  what 
beastliness  there  might  be  at  Jaroslav.  There  was 
a  lovely  sunset  that  evening  to  behold  —  a  sunset 
which  tinted  the  clouds  to  the  very  zenith.  We  at 
the  stern  had  the  benefit  of  its  full  glory  only  briefly 
as  the  boat  was  following  the  deep  channel  across 
the  river.  The  slanting  rays  made  resplendent  the 
white  walls  and  gilded  domes  of  a  castle-like  monas- 
tery, which,  half-way  up  the  high  bank  at  a  bend  in 
the  river,  commanded  a  wide  view.  We  passed  a 
whale-shaped  island  of  glittering  sandy-shoal.  On 
the  right  bank  were  flat  fields  of  grain;  very  fertile 
I  thought  —  I  was  glad  to  see  the  grain  so  lush  and 


52        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

nearly  ripe ;  I  am  not  quite  as  mean  as  to  wish  famine 
on  the  country  just  to  spite  the  Reds.  Beyond 
the  grain  were  low  wooded  hills.  In  the  slanting 
rays,  the  fields  were  very  bright  and  the  woods  very 
dark.  Our  boat  came  nearer  than  a  stone's  throw 
to  the  left  bank,  which  rose  as  a  cliff,  steep  and 
rocky,  dark  and  cool. 

At  this  hour  the  upper  deck  was  crowded  as  at 
no  other  time  during  the  day  with  first  and  second- 
class  passengers,  walking  arm-in-arm,  after  dinner. 
Nicolai  was  watching  them  as  I  dreamed  the  dreams 
of  sunset.  Again  that  involuntary  pressure  on  my 
hand,  and  again  I  was  too  late  to  catch  sight  of  the 
lady's  face !  She  wore  a  bright  yellow  sweater.  She 
was  walking  alone,  swiftly  and  nonchalantly,  for  all 
the  world  like  my  Maria  Ivanovna.  Nicolai  whis- 
pered in  my  ear:  "  She  looked  at  me,  and  I  think  she 
smiled."  I  looked  full  into  his  roguish  face  and  re- 
plied, "  How  could  she  help  it !  "  which  was  a  little 
more  than  I  intended  to  say.  At  the  same  time 
there  flashed  through  my  mind  the  idea  of  my  Maria's 
liking  this  fellow.  What  if  he  had  the  fascination 
for  her  he  seemed  to  have  for  other  people !  No ! 
Such  a  thing  couldn't  be !  As  between  men,  fascina- 
tion is  a  raw,  elemental,  unrefined  matter;  but  a 
woman  does  not  permit  herself  to  show  liking  for  a 
man  till  she  has  ascertained  his  secondary  social 
qualities. 

After  the  sun  was  down  and  the  cool  came  on,  we 
smoked  his  cigarettes,  one  after  the  other,  till  all 
were  gone.  Then  I  came  to  understand  why  he  was 


WOOD  FLAME  53 

a  Bolshevik.  He  told  me  first  how  he  experienced 
the  Revolution.  The  supply  system  at  the  front, 
which  had  gone  from  bad  to  worse,  was  reorganized 
by  committees  of  the  railroad  men  themselves  after 
the  March  Revolution.  Nicolai  worked  upon  one  of 
these  committees.  He  was  proud  of  it !  After  the 
October  Revolution  he  became  a  Bolshevik  with  many 
of  his  railroad  friends  and  served  on  more  commit- 
tees. He  was  proud  of  it !  "A  poor  tiling  to  be 
proud  of,"  you  say.  Perhaps,  but  you  did  not  see 
the  sincerity  in  those  pale  blue  eyes,  you  did  not  note 
the  ringing  assertion  in  his  husky  voice.  If  you 
had,  and  if  you  are  a  man  of  any  response  to  the 
feelings  which  move  those  beside  you,  you  would  have 
felt  as  I  did,  great  respect  for  his  feeling  of  pride. 

Nicolai  was  willing  to  pay  the  cost  of  his  prole- 
tarian beliefs  !  When  the  Czechs  took  Samara  and  a 
new  internal  front  was  created  along  the  Volga,  he 
hastened  to  Simbirsk  to  run  supply  trains  for  the 
Red  Army.  As  the  Czechs  advanced,  the  Soviet, 
bearing  in  mind  the  fate  of  the  Commissars  of  Sam- 
ara, feared  for  their  lives,  and  one  of  them,  the 
Commissar  of  Foreign  Affairs,  "  skipped  the  town." 
My  young  engineer  took  the  vacant  post,  angry  with 
several  who  had  declined  it  out  of  fear.  , 

Nicolai  considered  himself  lucky  to  escape  alive 
from  the  ugly  things  that  undoubtedly  happened  at 
Simbirsk.  As  he  was  fleeing  the  city,  fortunately  it 
was  into  the  hands  of  a  Czech  band  that  he  fell, 
rather  than  into  the  hands  of  the  local  White  Guards, 
who  might  have  recognized  him.  The  Czechs  never 


suspected  him  of  being  the  Commissar  of  Foreign 
Affairs.  Who  would!  But  he  was  a  Bolshevik  — 
he  was  running  away  —  so  they  took  from  him 
everything  he  had:  his  watch,  all  his  money,  and  a 
fine  new  overcoat  he  had  just  purchased  second-hand 
at  the  officers'  cooperative  selling  society  with  the 
proceeds  of  his  first  month's  advance  salary.  He 
escaped  by  his  face,  which  made  him  a  friend  in  one 
of  the  Czech  guards.  This  Czech  connived  at 
Nicolai's  sudden  disappearance  down  a  side  street. 
Then  with  money  hastily  borrowed  from  a  friend, 
and  with  a  good  supply  of  bread  and  cheese  presented 
by  his  goreetchnia,  he  set  out  on  foot.  Two  miles 
from  the  city  he  hired  a  peasant  to  drive  him  to 
Undoree. 

Such  was  the  revolutionary  history  of  Nicolai 
Timofevitch.  I  should  have  expected  to  find  his 
Bolshevism  just  personal  history  —  a  narrative  Bol- 
shevism; but  I  learned  it  was  argumentative  as  well. 
The  Bolsheviks  should  not  have  been  the  only  party 
for  a  self-respecting  Russian  workman  to  join  after 
the  fall  of  the  monarchy,  but  so  it  had  seemed  to 
Nicolai.  He  tried  to  show  me  why.  "  The  freedom 
of  the  workman  is  safe  only  in  his  own  hands,"  he 
said ;  "  he  is  not  safe  to  delegate  it  even  to  a  Con- 
stituent Assembly  uncontrolled  by  workmen."  I 
listened  and  did  not  attempt  to  refute.  Why  should 
I?  That  would  only  have  interrupted  his  flowing 
fervor.  It  was  a  beautiful  whole  he  pictured;  if  a 
strong  man  pulled  out  one  pillar,  the  whole  would 
have  fallen  into  pieces.  As  he  waxed  warm  describ- 


WOOD  FLAME  55 

ing  the  corner-stones,  "  justice  for  all "  and  "  all 
for  justice,"  his  tone  had  the  religious  note.  I  was 
awed.  I  became  convinced  of  the  value  of  his  opin- 
ions to  him;  there  was  that  much  truth  in  them.  I 
was  more  than  tolerant;  it  would  have  hurt  me  to 
think  his  high  hopes  were  all  a  lie ;  and  I  remember 
saying  once,  just  to  indulge  him,  "  perhaps,  after 
all,  if  I  were  as  young  as  you,  or  ever,  by  power  of 
imagination  and  faith,  had  been  as  young,  I  might 
come  to  be  guilty  of  holding  these  harsh  opinions." 

At  seven  o'clock  we  drew  up  to  the  Camilot  wharf 
at  Nishni  Novgorod,  the  Bolshevik's  present  destina- 
tion. These  large  Volga  boats  are  tied  up  in  a 
second,  but  getting  ashore,  for  us  at  the  rear  in 
third  class,  was  a  matter  of  twenty  minutes.  One 
by  one,  bag  and  baggage,  the  third-class  passengers 
marched  slowly  over  the  gang-plank.  As  I  waited 
there  in  turn  —  confronted  closely  with  our  meal- 
sack,  now  on  the  peasant  mother's  back  —  it  struck 
me  afresh  what  a  patient  creature  our  Russian  peas- 
ant is !  Our  peasant  companions  stood  there  in  line, 
weighted  down  with  their  precious  flour,  without  a 
whimper!  The  calm  and  stolidity  of  nature  herself 
was  in  their  faces. 

To  live  in  that  mass  of  simple  people  for  three 
days:  to  eat,  to  sleep,  to  smoke  among  them  was  a 
quieting  experience!  It  was  quieting  to  be  with 
them,  even  in  their  crowding  and  confusion:  the  hot 
words  which  they  exchanged  often  with  one  another 
did  not  come  out  of  their  deeper  currents.  These 
last  days  on  the  stern  of  this  boat  I  had  been  caught 


56        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

up  in  those  currents,  the  worries  that  had  fretted  me 
for  months  became  insignificant:  I  could  wait  for 
time  to  unfold  the  truth  about  Jaroslav,  about  the 
future  of  my  country,  about  the  end  of  the  great 
World  War;  I  could  wait  just  as  these  folks  did; 
eternity  was  the  present!  And  sitting  there  among 
them,  I  breathed  deeply,  I  was  at  peace  with  myself. 

Or  was  this  frame  of  mind,  in  some  degree,  the 
influence  of  one  man,  my  companion  in  this  unique 
travel?  Wasn't  it  that  in  the  presence  of  this 
honest  fellow,  it  was  impossible  to  think  hard 
thoughts,  strained  thoughts !  Perhaps,  though,  I 
give  him  qualities  he  does  not  deserve,  qualities  not 
recognized  in  him  by  those  who  had  known  him 
longer !  I  was  about  to  enter  into  a  period  of  doubt 
about  him,  myself. 

As  we  stood  waiting,  Nicolai,  to  beguile  the  time, 
was  using  his  last  chance  to  plumb  the  naivete  of 
the  nursing-mother  and  her  girls,  but  I  could  see  he 
was  impatient,  in  contrast  to  the  rest  of  us,  to  be 
off  the  boat.  Winking  slyly,  he  asked  me  if  I 
thought  he  might  recognize  on  shore  the  girl  of  the 
yellow  sweater !  "  But,  seriously,"  I  thought  to  my- 
self, "  he  does  not  intend  to  look  for  that  girl. 
Little  good  it  would  do  him,  if  he  does !  "  That  he 
should  be  bent  on  leaving  me  forthwith  as  a  mere 
boat  acquaintance,  hurt  me;  but,  in  face  of  his 
apparent  indifference,  or  thoughtlessness,  I  was  too 
proud  myself  to  suggest,  as  I  wished,  that  we  eat 
together  on  the  hill  at  the  "  Metropole,"  my  favorite 
restaurant  in  the  city  —  there  was  time  to  go  there, 


WOOD  FLAME  57 

the  boat  would  not  leave  for  four  or  five  hours.  But 
so  it  was,  as  soon  as  we  were  off  the  boat,  he  gave 
me  his  remaining  bread,  gave  me  one  of  his  cards, 
not  very  clean,  and  wished  me  a  good  journey  on  to 
Jaroslav.  "  Better  stay  away  from  that  town 
awhile :  it's  an  uncomfortable  place  for  contra-revolu- 
tionaries  just  now,"  he  said.  As  he  finished  speak- 
ing, he  dashed  off  and  left  me  in  the  crowd,  very 
lonesome.  I  wanted  to  dash  on  after  him  to  see 
what  he  would  do.  The  bread  he  bequeathed  me  was 
a  nuisance  to  carry.  It  occurred  to  me  that  that 
was  why  he  had  given  it  to  me. 

With  the  bread  under  my  arm  I  wandered  into  the 
town.  I  quickly  left  behind  the  dirty  region  of  the 
wharfs  and  made  my  way  through  the  street  gate  of 
the  old  Kremlin  wall  where  it  reaches  furthest  down 
the  hill.  Once  on  the  bluff,  I  had  range  of  the  two 
rivers,  the  Volga  and  the  Oka,  the  shipping,  the 
ragged  lines  of  the  city,  and  the  flat  fields  across  the 
Volga.  My  mood  of  meanness  disappeared. 

I  love  the  city  of  Nishni  most,  of  all  Russian  cities 
except  my  native  Jaroslav  and  Mother  Moscow.  I 
think  I  could  be  content  every  night  to  walk  among 
the  gay  crowd  taking  the  air  in  the  Nishni  Kremlin. 
In  it  are  several  places  to  buy  drinks,  where  there  is 
good  music ;  and  at  a  very  small  shop  is  to  be  had  ice 
cream  of  different  flavors. 

As  I  strolled  in  the  park,  by  chance  I  met  my 
friend,  Alexander  Sergcivitch  Pianoff.  There  was 
no  hesitation ;  we  went  directly  to  "  The  Metro- 
pole,"  though  he  had  already  dined  at  home:  Alex- 


58        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

ander  Sergeivitch  and  I  could  recall  happy  hours 
spent  at  that  restaurant,  when,  in  our  student  days, 
I  visited  him  in  Nishni.  Like  other  such  haunts  of 
mine,  the  place  had  changed  within  a  year;  it  had 
lost  its  savor;  the  linen  was  not  fresh;  the  women 
were  shorn  of  jewels;  the  music,  even,  was  without 
spirit,  or  so  it  seemed.  We  sat  at  a  small  table  in 
our  old  corner,  into  which  the  brilliant  light  at  the 
center  of  the  room  penetrated  only  a  little.  Alex- 
ander Sergeivitch  was  telling  me  his  troubles,  the 
typical  troubles  of  a  gentleman  in  these  times ;  pretty 
much  an  old  story !  —  we  are  all  suffering  from  the 
ravages  of  the  same  foe,  and  I  did  not  attend  dil- 
igently to  all  he  said. 

I  was  scanning  the  faces  of  the  diners,  when  to 
my  blank  astonishment  I  discovered  sitting  at  a 
small  table  across  the  room,  and  chatting  like  old 
acquaintances,  Nicolai  Timofevitch  and  —  would 
you  believe  it !  —  Maria  Ivanovna,  my  daughter 
Maria!  It  was  she  who  wore  the  yellow  sweater, 
then ;  her  telegram  failing  to  bring  answer,  she  must 
have  gone  to  Kazan  herself  to  find  me,  and  disap- 
pointed, she  was  now  returning  up  the  river.  But 
why  was  she  with  the  Bolshevik  Commissar?  Had 
he  known  her  all  the  time?  Or  was  this  —  no,  Maria 
would  never  flirt  with  an  entire  stranger!  To  be 
sure  Maria  was  always  a  venturesome  girl,  but  this 
far  I  never  knew  her  to  go.  If  they  had  met,  where? 
But  how  could  my  Maria  possibly  "  meet  "  this  fel- 
low. He  was  common;  only  an  empty-headed,  glib- 
tongued  boy  of  the  streets;  a  jovial  companion  to 


WOOD  FLAME  59 

carry  along  one's  fishing-tackle  for  a  day's  excur- 
sion, but  for  more  —  his  perpetual  grin  would 
quickly  tire  one  to  death !  Yes,  they  must  have  met 
before :  he  must  have  rendered  her  some  service  in  the 
past  and  now  she  was  rewarding  him  too  generously 
by  giving  him  a  dinner  at  the  best  restaurant  in 
town.  Maria  is  a  pure  idealist,  I  know;  I  have  al- 
ways been  afraid  she  would  take  a  turn  to  the  anar- 
chists. It's  her  mother  she  takes  after  in  this  lack 
of  common  sense.  Certainly  not  her  father!  the 
nearest  I  ever  came  to  being  a  "  Red,"  was  a  friend- 
ship at  law  school  with  a  youth  that  a  few  years  later 
had  to  be  sent  to  Siberia.  And  it  was  that  fellow  I 
had  picked  to  lead  all  of  us  in  the  eyes  of  the  world ; 
I  used  to  pride  myself  on  my  intuition  in  this  matter, 
for  it  was  shared  by  no  one  else  in  the  school. 

Just  which  of  those  troubles  of  the  upper  classes 
fell  to  all  of  us  in  a  period  of  tyranny,  Pianoff  was 
describing  as  his,  more  or  less,  I  did  not  catch  fully : 
I  kept  an  eye  peeled  in  the  direction  of  the  small 
table  across  the  room.  He  sat  with  his  back  to  me ; 
she  was  mostly  hidden  from  me  by  a  huge  palm, 
except  that  her  face  was  clearly  visible  when,  in 
gusts  of  eagerness  —  a  way  with  her  and  her  mother 
—  she  bent  forward  and  spoke  to  the  Bolshevik.  I 
did  not  like  to  see  it,  but  I  was  forced  by  her  very 
witchery  to  watch  her:  I  may  as  well  admit  that 
Maria  has  always  had  her  way  with  me;  she  never 
teased  for  what  she  wanted;  she  had  only  to  look  in 
her  peculiar  way.  The  question  came :  "  Who  is  this 
that  stirs  her  to  appear  so  at  her  best  and  in  her 


60        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

most  bewitching  manner ! "  The  answer  came  to 
me,  no  doubt  telepathically  from  Maria  as  I  watched 
her:  "  He  stirs  her,  he  interests  her;  for  the  moment 
she  forgets  why  she  travels."  Then  I  observed  him. 
"  Yes,  the  very  person  who  made  me  forget  why  7 
traveled !  " 

Then  I  returned  to  my  coffee  and  Alexander  Ser- 
geivitch.  I  smoked  one  of  his  cigarettes.  I  was 
listening  to  dull  tales  about  his  wife  and  son,  when 
the  Bolshevik  and  Maria  arose  from  the  table  to 
leave.  He  paid  the  bill,  he  tipped  the  servants: 
clearly,  the  dinner  was  his.  With  few  words,  I  made 
my  apologies  to  Alexander  Sergeivitch  for  the  neces- 
sity of  an  abrupt  departure :  I  had  not  realized  it  was 
getting  so  late;  it  would  be  serious  to  miss  even  one 
boat  while  things  were  so  unsettled;  I  must  insist 
that  he  was  not  to  see  me  to  the  boat  —  his  wife 
was  entertaining  guests  alone  at  home  already  too 
long,  etc. 

I  followed  them  to  the  park.  They  walked  at  the 
top  of  the  hill,  among  the  crowd,  but  not  of  it. 
Other  people  were  looking  at  them  —  they  were  a 
vivacious  pair,  a  handsome  pair,  of  about  the  same 
height;  but,  in  all  other  points  a  sharp  contrast. 
But  they  saw  no  one;  they  were  busily  talking,  or 
standing  at  the  edge  of  the  path  and  looking  down  in 
silence. 

It  was  dusk.  The  sun  was  down;  its  light  shot 
up  into  a  baggy,  black  cloud  hanging  over  the  west ; 
and,  under  this,  on  each  side  along  the  horizon,  it 
made  thin  clouds  resemble  delicate  pink  scarves.  To 


WOOD  FLAME  61 

the  east  was  a  sheet  of  cloud  which  let  down  rain  in 
streaks  of  light.  Below  this  cloud  had  just  ap- 
peared a  large,  jagged,  jug-shaped  moon,  laced 
with  thin  racing  clouds.  The  water  of  the  river, 
wrinkled  by  the  wind  and  spun  with  a  scarcely-per- 
ceptible reflection  of  sunset  pink,  was,  in  the  dusk, 
the  brightest  section  of  the  landscape.  It  was  the 
time  also  when  the  larger  city  lights  were  first  seen ; 
and  spasmodically  over  in  the  direction  of  the  rail- 
road station  a  shooting  rocket  rose  and  fell.  It  was 
not  all  quiet.  One  of  the  three  war  hydroplanes  was 
still  up  and  just  buzzing  home  to  its  tent  on  the 
beach  at  the  junction  of  the  rivers.  A  fleet  of  war 
boats,  including  one  four-stack  destroyer,  were 
screeching  the  same  raucous  signal,  one  after  the 
other. 

He  and  she  stopped  to  look  at  this  scene,  often 
for  ten  minutes  at  a  time.  Then  they  never  talked. 
At  such  times  they  appeared  to  be  strangers  to  each 
other.  Then  Nicolai  would  lead  her  again  into  the 
concourse  of  promenaders.  Her  arm  was  in  his,  and 
once,  as  they  turned  from  the  path  of  outlook,  I 
thought  that  he  pressed  her  hand  more  than  was 
necessary  to  guide  her;  and  that  for  an  instant  she 
swayed  slightly  toward  him.  It  made  me  angry 
again.  "Where  had  they  met  before?" 

I  followed  them  down  to  the  Camelot  wharf.  I 
saw  them  parting.  He  did  not  hurry  away  as  he 
had  from  me.  After  the  shaking  of  hands,  he  lin- 
gered, she  lingered.  He  lost  his  smile ;  his  grief  was 
so  genuine  that  I  felt  ashamed  for  the  ill  thoughts 


62        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

I  had  borne  him  —  that  I  felt  restrained  from  going 
over  to  speak  to  him.  He  was  moving  off ;  in  a  few 
moments  he  would  be  gone,  gone  in  his  smiling  flesh, 
irrevocably.  He  went. 

"  Where  did  you  meet  before,  Maria  ?  " 

"  Him  ?  We  never  met  before  to-day.  Our  eyes 
met  yesterday  on  the  boat.  His  eyes  are  very  bold 
and  commanding !  " 

"Maria!" 

"  Father ! " 

"  I  cannot  understand  how  this  happens.  I  never 
dreamed  I  should  suffer  such  humiliation." 

"  Such  humiliation?  " 

"  That  you  make  the  acquaintance  of  this  rap- 
scallion as  if  you  were  a  girl  of  the  people !  " 

"  My  knight  came  to  claim  me.  Instantly,  I  knew 
his  rank  and  his  honor." 

"  So !  a  romance !  You  are  not  the  daughter  I 
thought.  You  will  tell  me,  perhaps,  that  you  love 
the  Bolshevik ! " 

"  I  do !  " 

"  You  —  do !     He  loves  you  ?  " 

"I  wonder!" 

"  Then  you  didn't  discuss  —  eh  —  love  ?  He 
didn't  make  love  to  you?" 

"  You  are  silly,  father.  Whoever  discusses  love ! 
Did  we  look  as  if  we  were  discussing  love?  You 
saw  us ! " 

"  As  I  told  you,  I  saw  you  both  together  at  the 


WOOD  FLAME  63 

restaurant  and  along  the  promenade.  I  followed 
you." 

"  You  followed  us !  You  were  going  to  shoot  him, 
I  suppose ! " 

"  I  suppose  I  did  think  of  some  such  thing." 

"  Only  you  couldn't  get  a  gun  anywhere.  They 
wouldn't  let  you  have  a  gun,  you  old  counter-revolu- 
tionist ! " 

"You  discussed  politics  with  the  Bolshevik?" 

"  Well,  I  know  he  is  a  Bolshevik,  a  very  nice  Bol- 
shevik ! " 

"  And  you  don't  care  that  the  man  you  love,  is  a 
Bolshevik?" 

M  I  do  not  care  what  are  the  politics  of  the  men 
I  love." 

"  The  men  you  love.  How  many  men  do  you 
love?" 

"  I  never  count." 

"  Your  answers  are  not  respectful." 

"  That  is  not  a  new  complaint  against  me,  father." 

"  No  !  You  see  I  do  not  understand  you :  I  have 
said  that  before,  haven't  I?  I  am  amazed:  How  can 
you  love  a  man  in  a  day ! " 

"  Love  a  man  for  a  day?  " 

"  Yes.  Put  it  so :  would  you  love  a  man  for  a 
day?" 

"  You  catechize,  father.  Time  isn't  the  length  of 
love." 

"  Well,  I  will  not  catechize  you.  I  guess  I  do  not 
know  much  of  such  things.  Your  mother  might 


64        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

teach  you  a  thing  or  two  —  though  I  am  not  so  sure. 
Your  mother  was  the  only  woman  I  ever  loved  —  a 
life-long  love.  What  is  the  length  of  love,  Maria?  " 

"  What  is  length  of  fire  ?  Some  woods  burn  longer 
than  others.  Some  coals  burn  longer  than  others. 
Coal  burns  longer  than  wood.  Love  lasts  longest 
where  there  is  most  to  consume." 

"  And  how  long  will  your  present  flame  consume 
—  this  boy  of  the  people  ?  " 

"  Not  much  longer,  father,  I  fear.  This  is  wood, 
not  coal.  Wood  flame  has  many  shapes  and  many 
colors ! " 

"  How?  What  is  the  matter  with  the  fellow?  I 
was  just  preparing  myself  to  look  upon  him  as  son- 
in-law.  Perhaps  I  could  grow  to  tolerate  him,  if 
you  persisted  in  your  fancy.  After  a  time  I  would 
like  him." 

"  No,  you  wouldn't !  He  wouldn't  have  much 
respect  for  you." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  the  kind  of  people  I  prefer !  " 

"  Gospadeen  Asakaloff  is  not  like  me,  though ;  his 
disrespect  might  not  be  like  mine.  He  and  I  are 
as  different  as  the  poles." 

"  Of  course  1  You  think  he  is  an  infinitely  better 
person  than  yourself." 

"  No,  he  is  no  better  than  I.  Only  he  has  had 
more  opportunities." 

"  Oh,  yes,  more  opportunities !  " 

"  To  be  a  sensible  human  being." 

"  He  is  very  wise,  you  think." 

"  Wise !     Not  at  all.     He  never  had  so  much  more 


WOOD  FLAME  65 

than    other   people    that   he   had    to   be   prudent." 

"  He  certainly  is  uncivilized  —  easily  fathomed. 
That  is  why  you  have  tired  of  him  in  a  day." 

"  I  tire  of  him !  Ha !  It  would  be  he  that  tired 
of  me  in  a  day.  It  is  he  who  is  unfathomable.  Him 
I  would  never  understand  in  all  the  days.  Father,  I 
offer  you  this  consolation :  I  was  never  picked  up  by 
a  man  before." 

"  I  think  we  might  be  able  to  make  something  of 
the  chap ;  if  we  could  bring  out  the  good  in  him." 

•"  Cover  over  the  good !  " 

"  And  civilize  him ;  he  would  drop  his  proletarian 
theories.  When  shall  we  see  him  again,  do  you 
think?" 

"  Probably  never !  " 

"  Probably  never !     Hasn't  he  your  address  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  asked  for  it  and  I  gave  it.  It  hurt 
me :  it  was  the  first  formality  of  the  evening !  " 

"  And  what  is  to  prevent  you  from  seeing  each 
other  again  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     Simply,  I  feel  we  shall  not." 

"  You  do  not  intend  to  see  each  other,  to  corre- 
spond ! " 

"  Just  now  we  intend  to  see  each  other  for  life, 
and  to  correspond  when  we  don't." 

"  You  exchanged  — ?  " 

"  Vows !  Nonsense,  of  course  not !  He  didn't 
make  love  to  me,  I  tell  you.  That  is,  it  wasn't  what 
you  call  making  love." 

"  And  you  simply  let  this  man  slip  out  of  your 
reckoning." 


66        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

"  It  is  a  cruel  thought !  " 

"  Come,  child !  Why  imagine  such  heartless 
thoughts  ?  See  here,  I  have  his  card !  I  was  with 
him  on  the  boat  coming  to  Nishni.  He  isn't  just  the 
sort  of  man  I  should  cultivate,  but  if  you  see  some- 
thing in  him,  why  then  I  — " 

"  Would  cultivate  him !  " 

"  Yes,  I  shall  invite  him  to  Jaroslav.  I  shall  offer 
him  good  employment  there.  We  will  make  a  man 
of  him.  He  shall  not  go  out  of  our  lives." 

"  Make  bright  plans,  father ;  but  in  a  month  you 
will  have  picked  another  man  for  son-in-law.  Per- 
haps I  should  have  another  man  picked  for  myself." 

"  Maria,  you  are  content  to  love  this  man  for  a 
day?" 

"  I  am  not  content.  But  this  discontent  of  to- 
night is  almost  better  than  content ;  the  uncertainty 
and  brevity  of  it  —  well,  it's  unf orgetable !  It  was 
a  splendid  evening  we  spent.  The  view  from  the 
Nishni  Kremlin  was  wonderfully  beautiful." 

"  The  sunset  on  the  Volga  last  night  was  also 
beautiful." 

"  They  said  it  was  fine,  but  I  wasn't  interested.  I 
was  reading  in  my  cabin.  I  don't  care  to  see  every 
fine  sunset." 

"  But  to-night  you  seemed  to  enjoy  the  sunset 
so  much  that  you  forgot  Gaspadeen  Asakaloff  for  a 
few  minutes.  I  saw  that  you  both  stood  and  looked 
and  said  nothing:  you  seemed  to  be  strangers  to  each 
other." 

"  I  did  not  forget  him,  but  something  did  come 


WOOD  FLAME  67 

between  us ;  something  terrible  and  wide ;  as  wide  as 
the  world,  and  as  terribly  irresistible  as  the  coming 
of  another  twilight  —  mysterious  and  pulsating  like 
to-night's !  " 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION 

I  was  on  the  ground  in  Soviet  Russia  where 
Counter-revolution  first  raised  its  head  to  be  formid- 
able. Here  was  beginning  a  revolutionary  movement 
that  was  respectable,  that  attracted  all  those  ele- 
ments of  the  population  formerly  within  the  sacred 
circle  of  somebodies.  Hitherto,  revolution  was  a 
despised  thing,  generally  treason.  Now  it  was  a 
glorified  struggle,  one  hundred  per  cent,  patriotic. 
The  ninety-five  per  cent,  nobodies  had  gained  power. 

As  the  Germans,  or  a  part  of  them,  had  long  had 
Der  Tag,  so  had  the  Russians,  all  except  a  paltry 
few,  always  had  a  day  when  Russia  should  rise  tri- 
umphant the  Russia  of  the  Masses.  Russian  liter- 
ature is  full  of  such  a  day.  It  was  the  embodiment 
of  this  hope,  this  day  of  Ivan,  the  nobody,  that 
gave  the  work  of  Dostoieffsky  and  Tolstoy  its  power 
and  hold  on  the  Russian  people.  Even  in  Russian 
short  stories  one  can  perceive  a  groping  recognition 
of  class  struggle  and  a  crystalizing  anathema  against 
the  proud  and  exclusive  use  of  material  possessions. 

Well,  the  day  of  the  Masses  had  come !  The  Pro- 
letariat was  making  their  will  felt.  Those  of  us  who 
considered  it  a  privilege  to  be  in  Russia  then  saw  the 
dawning  of  The  Day  as  a  miraculous  yet  accom- 

68 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  69 

plished  fact,  beside  which  all  the  terror  and  injustice 
there  was  sank  to  insignificance. 

And  now  the  dispossessed  class,  at  first  stunned  by 
its  sudden  fall,  raised  its  head  again;  Reaction  be- 
gan in  the  summer  of  1918.  For  a  time  the  Bour- 
geoisie had  hoped  to  crawl  back  to  power  by  compro- 
mise, and  by  sprinkling  soft  words  here  and  there, 
insinuating  the  necessity  of  themselves  and  of  their 
virtues  to  the  state.  The  Proletariat  through  its 
sane  and  most  trusted  deputies  acknowledged  the 
virtues  in  their  intelligence  and  training,  but  dog- 
gedly refused  to  yield  supreme  power. 

The  first  outbreaks  of  counter-revolutionary  zeal 
amounted  to  little  but  to  cause  the  establishment  of 
a  counter-revolutionary  tribunal  with  which  to  com- 
bat them ;  they  provoked  what  terror  there  was ; 
they  brought  out  inter-class  embitterment.  Here 
and  there  the  Whites  gained  a  city  for  a  few  hours; 
they  waged  battle  about  and  in  Jaroslav  for  a  week. 

But  the  Whites  were  few  in  numbers,  practically 
the  officer-element  alone,  and  they  were  cowardly. 
The  thing  that  gave  them  courage  and  support  was 
the  uprising  of  the  Czech  prisoners  in  Russia  at  the 
instigation  of  the  Allied  chancellories.  Here  were 
soldiers  as  well  as  officers  who  would  fight  recklessly. 
These  Czech  fathers  and  sons  most  of  all  wanted  to 
go  home ;  in  a  strange  country  they  felt  obedient  to 
Czech  commands  from  above;  accordingly,  they  did 
the  best  thing  they  knew  under  the  circumstances; 
they  did  not  know  that  above  the  Czech  commands 
from  above  was  operating  the  jugglery  of  the  Allied 


70        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

chancellories ;  they  did  not  know  the  import  of  their 
act  to  Russia.  To  Russia  it  meant  two  years  of  civil 
warfare.  Every  part  of  Russia  suffered  from  it. 
To  Kolchak  and  Denikin  and  their  ilk  it  brought 
shame  and  a  foul  name  as  well  as  other  miseries. 

The  Czechs  made  some  ostensible  excuse,  of  course, 
for  their  sudden  turning  against  their  erstwhile 
friends.  The  Czechs  and  other  war  prisoners  had 
been  treated  with  extraordinary  kindness  in  Russia, 
particularly  after  the  Bolshevik  revolution.  [The 
Proletariat  considered  them  no  natural  enemies  of 
its  own  and  hailed  them  as  comrades  of  the  Inter- 
national. 

An  occasion  for  the  uprising  was  made  of  a  quarrel 
as  to  whether  the  Czechs  should  be  armed.  The 
story  went  that  the  Bolsheviks,  very  likely  scenting 
trouble,  refused  to  give  arms  to  their  prisoners. 
Then  the  Czechs,  at  the  command  of  their  officers, 
took  arms.  The  Bolsheviks  protested.  The  Czechs 
took  possession  of  the  cities  of  Pensa,  Syzran,  and 
Samara.  The  Czechs  in  this  body  making  the  first 
offensive  numbered  not  more  than  ten  thousand  men, 
but,  scattered  through  Siberia  were  a  hundred  thou- 
sand of  them  more  or  less.  These  Czechs  in  Siberia 
simultaneously  seized  stations  along  the  Trans- 
Siberian  railroad  and  soon  ftad  an  anti-Bolshevik 
government  established  throughout  Siberia.  Never 
before,  I  suppose,  when  civil  war  threatened  a  coun- 
try, has  a  force  of  its  own  war-prisoners  been  power- 
ful enough  to  precipitate  the  war.  Everybody,  in- 
cluding the  Bolsheviks,  believed  the  situation  to  be 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  71 

critical.  I  was  with  several  American  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
workers  at  Kazan,  which  now  became  a  "  front."  A 
fine  dwelling  on  my  street  was  requisitioned  for  the 
headquarters  of  Murayov,  commander  of  the  first 
Red  army.  Aeroplanes  were  flying  over  the  city. 

Samara,  two  days'  journey  on  the  Volga  River 
south  from  Kazan,  was  captured  by  the  Czechs  June 
9.  The  Red  Guard  there  was  caught  unawares. 
Many  of  them  were  forced  into  the  river  and  some 
drowned;  others,  running  without  any  clothes 
through  the  streets  of  the  city,  were  shot  by  partisans. 
The  entrance  of  the  Czech  army  into  the  city  is  made 
a  veritable  triumph  by  the  anti-Bolsheviks.  Flowers 
are  strewn  at  the  feet  of  the  victorious  war-prisoners ; 
elaborate  dinners  and  balls  are  given  in  their  honor; 
diamonds  flash  again  and  costly  raiment  appears  out 
of  secret  hiding-places,  confirming  a  suspicion  of 
mine  that  all  the  luxuries  of  living  had  not  suddenly 
passed  into  Soviet  coffers ;  in  the  cathedral  church 
the  bishop  allows  the  occasion  to  be  marked  by  a 
service  of  extra  pomp,  and  by  the  lighting  of  all 
the  church  candles  as  at  Easter. 

All  the  Commissars  of  Samara  found  were  killed 
on  the  spot.  The  Czechs  let  it  be  known  that  they 
intended  to  destroy  all  the  Bolshevik  Commissars 
they  should  ever  find  in  any  city.  This  was  a  part 
of  their  boast  and  assurance  that  all  Russia  would 
soon  be  in  their  hands.  A  counter-revolutionary  Y. 
M.  C.  A.  man  who  was  in  Samara  at  the  time  of  its 
capture  reported  to  us  that  the  Czechs  had  strong 
and  brave  forces,  and  that  thousands  of  Russians 


72        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

had  joined  their  ranks.  The  Kazan  press,  however, 
declared  that  this  reputed  Russian  increment  con- 
sisted of  boys  only. 

It  was,  of  course,  of  great  moment  how  the  Rus- 
sians looked  upon  the  Czechs.  Beyond  any  doubt, 
the  "  officer  "  and  White  Guard  element,  and,  in  fact, 
all  counter-revolution  except  its  fringes,  looked  upon 
these  lusty  Czechs  as  its  savior,  and  hoped  eagerly 
for  a  swift  military  conquest  of  Moscow  itself  by 
the  Czechs  for  its  own  benefit.  What  the  working- 
men  and  peasants  thought  was  not  so  clear,  but, 
generally,  they  seemed  to  oppose  the  new  counter- 
revolutionary government  set  up  by  the  Czech  com- 
mander and  composed  of  so-called  "  Constituent 
Assembly  "  men.  The  Mensheviks  categorically  re- 
fused to  participate  in  the  new  government.  Some 
of  this  opposition  at  Samara  came  to  a  head  several 
days  after  the  coup,  in  a  riot  in  which  40  people 
were  killed.  In  a  daily  column  of  a  Bolshevik  news- 
paper, under  the  heading;  "Where  Bolsheviks  are 
not,"  I  read  that  the  Russians  in  the  territory  oc- 
cupied by  the  Czechs  were  loudly  discontented  with 
their  self-elected  deliverers ;  that  peasants  refused 
them  bread,  and  that  workmen  were  striking  in  pro- 
test against  their  decrees.  The  Czechs  very  wisely 
did  not  wait  upon  any  popularity  they  might  have, 
but  proceeded  to  the  formation  of  a  people's  army, 
declared  to  be  voluntary,  but,  even  at  the  time  partly 
conscripted,  and,  subsequently  almost  entirely  con- 
scripted. 

The   Czech  victories  were  made  possible  by  the 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  73 

weakness  of  the  "  Red  Army,"  which  was  then  little 
more  than  the  dregs  of  the  old  army  just  demob- 
ilized. Only  rough  men  who  liked  soldiering  as  a 
business  and  those  who  would  not  look  to  peace-time 
employment  hung  on  in  the  ranks.  In  addition  to 
them  were  many  attracted  to  the  army  by  high  pay 
and  good  food  rations.  Discipline  was  lacking,  and 
drill  ridiculously  insufficient ;  moreover,  the  old  offi- 
cers and  generals,  who  later  led  the  army  to  such 
brilliant  achievements,  had  not  yet  gone  over  to  the 
Bolshevik  side.  Such  commanders  as  the  army  had 
were  none  too  trustworthy;  that  General  Murayov, 
of  whom  I  spoke,  was  accused  of  dealing  with  the 
Czechs  and  counter-revolutionaries,  and  was  ar- 
rested. In  the  ranks,  too,  revolutionary  loyalty 
could  not  be  depended  upon.  During  these  critical 
days  I  heard  that  one  of  the  Red  regiments  fighting 
at  Simbirsk  to  stem  the  Czech  advance,  struck  and 
demanded  two  months'  pay  in  advance.  Under 
threat  of  force  one  month's  pay  was  given  over  to 
the  soldiers  and  motors  were  sent  to  Kazan  to  bring 
back  another  month's  pay.  Instead  of  extortion 
money,  machine  guns  were  dispatched  from  Kazan 
and  the  mutineers  were  finally  overpowered  by  troops 
more  loyal. 

Under  spur  of  necessity,  a  new  "  Red  Army  "  was 
being  formed  by  the  energetic  Trotsky.  Pay  was 
raised  still  higher.  Some  of  the  old  officers  con- 
sented to  take  positions.  A  new  discipline  was  im- 
posed. Old  munition  plants  were  set  going  again ;  I 
read  in  a  Kazan  newspaper  that  a  munition  works 


had  been  reopened  in  that  city.  The  essential  fea- 
ture in  the  rebuilding  of  the  army  was  the  develop- 
ment of  the  idea  of  labor  battalions.  The  factories 
were  urged  to  send  contingents  of  real  Communists. 
The  reports  from  the  front  described  how  bravely 
these  labor  companies  fought.  It  is  admitted  now 
that  the  successes  of  the  new  army  would  have  been 
impossible  without  the  valor  and  enthusiasm  of  these 
troops ;  they  were  the  shock  troops  of  the  army. 
Often  in  the  city  of  Kazan  I  saw  detachments  of  Red 
soldiers  that  did  not  appear  like  the  rabble  I  had 
expected  to  see ;  they  must  have  been  representatives 
of  the  "  new  "  army,  for  they  were  young,  upstand- 
ing, and  clean-looking. 

Not  only  had  the  Proletariat  a  disorganized  army 
to  begin  its  fighting  with;  it  had,  also,  a  divided 
citizen-body;  citizens  of  many  political  shades  were 
plotting  against  the  Bolsheviks.  Furthermore,  the 
very  bottom  of  government  was  uncertain :  the  Soviet 
was  a  rawf  untried,  new-fashioned  instrument  for 
governing. 

The  Soviet  form  of  government  had  one  funda- 
mental weakness  for  a  new  government :  a  basic  prin- 
ciple of  it  was  decentralization.  Moscow  was  not 
the  rallying  point  and  guide  and  authority  it  was 
later  to  become.  The  Bolsheviks  are  great  believers 
in  the  doctrine  of  "  state's  rights."  We  know  that 
in  the  early  and  in  the  later  history  of  a  certain 
great  republic  support  of  this  doctrine  produced 
periods  of  instability.  Perhaps  excessive  decentral- 
ization is  a  disease  common  to  the  childhood  of 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  75 

federalism.  This  principle  was  even  made  consti- 
tutional in  the  new  Russia.  The  Constitution  of  the 
Russian  Socialist  Federal  Soviet  Republic  states 
(Art.  I:  Chapt.  1,  Sec.  2)  that  «'  The  Russian  Soviet 
Republic  is  organized  on  the  basis  of  a  free  union 
of  free  nations,  as  a  federation  of  Soviet  national 
republics";  and  in  (Art.  I;  Chapt.  4?,  Sec.  8)  states 
that  "  In  its  efforts  to  create  a  league  —  free  and 
voluntary,  and  for  that  reason  all  the  more  complete 
and  secure  —  of  the  working  classes  of  all  the  peoples 
of  Russia,  the  third  Congress  of  Soviets  merely 
establishes  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  Feder- 
ation of  Russian  Soviet  Republics,  leaving  to  the 
workers  and  peasants  of  every  people  to  decide  the 
following  questions  at  their  plenary  sessions  of  their 
Soviets;  namely,  whether  or  not  they  desire  to  par- 
ticipate, and  on  what  basis,  in  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment and  other  Federal  Soviet  institutions." 

This  constitutional  principle  was  adhered  to  in- 
stinctively. In  the  early  months  of  Bolshevism,  it 
was  only  by  courtesy  that  one  Soviet  recognized  the 
arrangements  of  another  Soviet.  At  the  most  it 
might  be  said  that  the  decrees  of  the  Moscow  Soviet 
were  only  weighty  precedent.  An  American  consu- 
lar agent  came  to  Kazan  to  distribute  President 
Wilson's  speeches  in  Russian  in  the  factories.  The 
local  city  Soviet  was  willing  that  this  literature 
should  be  distributed,  but  would  give  no  written  order 
compelling  factory  heads  to  admit  the  gentleman. 
This  doughty  American  —  I  met  him  —  pressed  it 
upon  the  city  fathers  that  the  Moscow  Soviet  and 


all  the  other  Soviets  with  which  he  had  had  dealings 
had  given  him  a  written  order;  that  was  as  it  was, 
but  Kazan  was  obedient  unto  Kazan  only. 

Local  independence  was  carried  to  the  point  of 
secession.  Many  parts  of  old  Russia,  such  as  Fin- 
land, the  Baltic  Provinces,  and  the  Ukraine,  had 
already  declared  their  independence  of  the  old  im- 
perial ties.  Other  states  were  on  the  point  of  fol- 
lowing their  example.  It  was  reported  that  the 
Georgians  were  eager  to  set  up  their  own  sove- 
reignty; also  the  Don  Cossacks  were  restless  and 
agitating  for  a  Don  republic.  Separatist  tendencies 
were  not  only  geographical.  The  Tartars  held  a 
convention  which  bespoke  some  sort  of  internal  au- 
tonomy for  their  race,  scattered  though  it  was  over 
a  wide  area.  Even  the  cotton  producers  and  mer- 
chants were  meeting  in -Moscow  in  the  separate  inter- 
ests of  the  Kingdom  of  Cotton ;  they  wished  Cotton 
autonomy  —  under  All- Russian  Federation  protec- 
tion. 

Perhaps  the  most  demoralizing  of  all  disruptive 
forces  within  the  Soviet  realm  were  the  bitter  attacks 
the  government  had  to  withstand  from  both  the  Left 
and  the  Right.  The  Anarchists,  at  the  Left,  were 
a  powerful  party  in  some  cities.  In  Samara,  for 
example,  they  made  a  strong  bid  for  power  in  May, 
and  once  when  the  Bolshevik  troops  were  outside  the 
city  fighting,  they  took  control,  deposed  the  Bolshe- 
vik Commissars  and  installed  some  of  their  own. 
Their  coup  lasted  about  six  hours,  till  the  Red 
troops  returned. 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  77 

The  Right  Social  Revolutionary  and  Menshevik 
Socialist  parties  were  no  less  hostile.  The  Socialist 
leaders  of  these  parties,  being  no  longer  the1  directors 
of  the  Socialist  activity,  were  smarting  under  the 
eclipse  they  suffered.  They  preferred  to  save  the 
Revolution  in  their  own  way  and  not  under  the  Bol- 
shevik aegis.  It  was  not  till  a  year  later  that  they 
realized  that  the  only  way  for  them  to  help  to  save 
the  Revolution  was  to  support  the  Bolsheviks,  or,  at 
least,  its  Red  Army,  in  the  campaigns  against  Kol- 
chak  and  Denikin. 

The  Social  Revolutionaries  (except  the  Left  Social 
Revolutionaries)  and  the  Mensheviks  were  decried 
by  the  Bolsheviks  as  counter-revolutionaries,  as  in 
truth,  at  that  time,  many  of  them  were.  Openly, 
these  moderate  Socialists  were  finding  fault  with  the 
Bolsheviks,  as,  of  course,  it  was  easy  to  do :  the  Bol- 
sheviks had  not  yet  brought  about  Utopia  as  some 
people  expected  they  might;  hunger  was  increasing 
instead  of  decreasing.  Secretly,  the  Moderates  were 
responsible  for  a  reign  of  terror,  anti-Bolshevik, 
which  began  the  last  week  in  June,  Volodarsky,  a 
Commissar  of  Petrograd,  being  the  first  victim.  A 
committee  of  inquiry  into  these  assassinations  in 
Petrograd  reported  that  the  conspiracy  was  financed 
by  Englishmen.  In  Kazan  two  prominent  Bolshe- 
viks were  victims  of  this  murder  drive.  The  funerals 
of  these  revolutionary  martyrs  were  big  public  dem- 
onstrations. The  whole  working  population  of  Pet- 
rograd turned  out  to  the  Volodarsky  ceremonies.  In 
every  case  there  is  the  warm  oratory  of  eulogy ;  the 


78        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

pre-revolutionary  secret  services  of  the  hero  are  espe- 
cially recalled.  It  is  pointed  out  that  he  died  in 
sight  of  the  promised  land ;  that  the  cause  for  which 
he  labored  to  the  final  sacrifice  will  soon  be  com- 
pletely won.  Much  fervid  poetry  about  him  ap- 
pears in  the  newspapers. 

The  Bolsheviks  came  nearest  a  fall  with  the  Left 
Socialist-Revolutionary  sedition  the  first  part  of 
July.  From  the  accession  of  the  Bolsheviks  to 
power,  the  Left  Social-Revolutionaries  had  been 
working  hand  in  hand  with  them  and  holding  office  in 
the  Soviet  government.  Some  of  their  more  influ^ 
ential  members  came  to  favor  declaring  war  on  Ger- 
many, with  the  idea,  especially,  of  freeing  the 
Ukraine  peasants  and  comrades  from  the  German 
yoke.  Through  the  plotting  of  this  faction,  Mir- 
bach,  the  German  ambassador,  was  shot  and  killed 
in  a  theater  in  Moscow.  The  Bolsheviks  might  have 
agreed  to  make  war  on  Germany  in  order  to  purchase 
recognition  and  other  assistance  from  the  Allies,  but, 
otherwise,  they  were  unalterably  for  the  peace  they 
had  so  dearly  bought  from  Germany  at  Brest- 
Litovsk.  Some  of  the  Left  Social-Revolutionaries 
tried  to  overthrow  the  Bolsheviks  and  usurp  the 
power.  There  was  a  short  party  battle  in  the 
streets  of  Moscow  and  the  Bolsheviks  triumphed. 
The  Left  Social-Revolutionaries  split,  a  pro- 
B.olshevik  section  forming  a  new  party. 

This  was  the  last  serious  attempt  to  set  up  an  anti- 
Bolshevik  government  of  Socialists  within  Soviet 
Russia.  The  day  of  the  Moderates  and  Compromise 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  79 

was  past.  From  now  on  there  were  only  two  fac- 
tions, Bolsheviks  and  anti-Bolsheviks.  At  this  time 
I  was  traveling  over  a  wide  stretch  of  the  country. 
I  left  Kazan,  July  23,  traveling  by  boat  to  Nishni- 
Novgorod,  by  train  to  Moscow,  Petrograd,  Vologda 
and  back  to  Moscow,  all  within  two  weeks.  In  the 
course  of  my  travels  I  felt  the  political  pulse  of  a 
large  part  of  Russia.  An  average  pulse,  an  average 
of  two  diametrically  opposed  pulses,  was  about  the 
same  in  all  the  cities  and  towns  I  visited.  But  there 
was  no  person  of  average  pulse.  The  Left  Social- 
Revolutionary  sedition  had  broken  away  whatever 
middle  ground  there  may  have  been.  So  it  is  always 
with  Counter-Revolution.  When  in  the  history  of 
any  country  Conservatism  reaches  a  stage  where  it 
is  reactionary  to  the  people's  dominant  will,  a  clean 
split  is  made  that  is  wider  than  the  gulf  between 
Heaven  and  Hell. 

;Such  was  the  Russia  —  with  many  of  its  choicest 
territories  lopped  off;  rent  in  two  by  counter-revolu- 
tion —  that  the  Allies  declared  war  upon  in  July, 
1918.  The  smoke  in  which  we  had  been  living  in 
Russia  cleared  away. 

For  many  months  no  one  had  known  positively 
which  way  the  Allied  diplomacy  cat  would  jump. 
When  I  first  arrived  in  Russia  in  May  there  were 
rumors,  which  have  since  been  proved  true,  that  the 
Bolsheviks  would  openly  go  over  to  fight  on  the  side 
of  the  Allies,  if  the  Allies  would  recognize  them. 
Raymond  Robins  had  done  his  utmost  to  bring  this 
about.  With  his  failure  and  his  departure  to  Amer- 


ica,  there  was  no  longer  any  representative  of  the 
Allies  left  in  Russia  not  really  hostile  to  the  Bolshe- 
viks. On  the  other  hand,  there  were  rumors, 
emanating  chiefly  from  Allied  sources,  that  German 
influence  was  strong  among  the  Bolsheviks.  The 
arrival  of  a  German  ambassador,  Mirbach,  with  staff 
and  military  escort  speeded  these  rumors.  On  the 
roof  of  Mirbach's  house  was  placed  a  formidable 
anti-aircraft  gun,  which  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  could  see 
from  its  headquarters  and  felt  a  menace.  Mirbach's 
assassination  proved  that  his  strong  guard  and  his 
gun  were  necessary  precautions  and  not  signs  of  Bol- 
shevik favoritism.  Trotsky  put  well  the  Bolshevik 
attitude  to-ward  Germany  at  this  time  in  a  speech 
of  his  I  saw  quoted  from  "  Pravda  " :  "  The  Bolshe- 
viks do  not  wish  an  alliance  with  Germany;  no  one 
who  understands  the  Bolsheviks  could  believe  they 
do ;  however,  if  actually  they  had  to  choose  between 
Japanese  intervention  and  German  intervention, 
there  would  be  no  hesitation;  Japan  would  come  in 
for  Japan,  and  would  stay ;  Germany  would  come  in 
with  no  less  sinister  designs,  but  the  duration  of  the 
German  occupation  would  be  less  certain.  The  Bol- 
sheviks would  hope  for  changes  brought  about  by 
internal  changes  in  Germany." 

The  Allies  had  really  made  their  decision  when 
they  egged  on  the  Czecho-Slovaks  to  revolt.  Bolshe- 
vik leaders  uncovered  the  part  Allied  agents  had  in 
this  conspiracy,  and  therefore  expected  the  direct 
attack  by  the  Allies  upon  the  Soviet  Government; 
they  faced  war  with  the  Allies  with  reluctance. 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  81 

The  Allies,  themselves,  finally  cast  the  die.  Allied 
pronunciamentos  appeared  late  in  July  setting 
forth  the  great  concern  of  the  Allied  governments  for 
Russian  welfare  and  independence,  and  their  equal 
concern  that  the  ports  of  Russia  and  all  the  war  sup- 
plies in  Russia  should  be  safe  from  the  Germans 
—  even  those  in  Vladivostok.  President  Wilson's 
pronunciamento  spoke  of  Russia  with  especial  tender- 
ness. The  Bolsheviks  knew  then  where  Mr.  Wilson 
stood ;  their  socialist  teachings  should  have  intimated 
as  much  to  them  long  before.  Wilson  was  counter- 
revolution. From  now  on  counter-revolution  re- 
ceived from  Wilson  and  the  Allies  direct  support  in 
money,  weapons,  food  and  encouragement.  The 
British  Government  considered  counter-revolution 
even  an  affair  of  honor :  in  due  course  they  decorated 
Denikin.  Work  for  counter-revolution  had  recog- 
nized merit  outside  Russia ;  it  gave  international  good 
standing. 

I  arrived  at  Vologda  just  in  time  for  the  excite- 
ment and  effect  in  that  nopth  region  of  the  beginning 
of  the  hostile  movement  of  the  English  against  Soviet 
Russia.  An  official  poster  appeared  all  over  the 
city  ordering  all  foreigners  to  leave  within  twenty- 
four  hours  on  penalty  of  death,  as  they  could  not  be 
protected  at  Vologda.  The  railroad  line  to  Arch- 
angel was  closed  to  all  except  Red  troops.  We  three 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  men  there  bought  tickets  to  Moscow  at 
once.  The  Secretary  to  the  American  Embassy  was 
provided  a  train,  and,  in  spite  of  his  proud  Amer- 
ican threats,  was  forced  to  leave  at  a  certain  hour. 


The  National  City  Bank  of  New  York  men  made 
protests,  but  went  as  ordered,  taking  their  bank. 

At  Moscow  we  learned  that  British  and  French 
officials  had  been  arrested.  No  Americans  were  ar- 
rested, but  Russians  could  no  longer  put  us  in  a 
special  category  of  friendly  foreigners  when  it  had 
appeared  in  their  newspapers  that  Americans  and 
Japanese  had  agreed  on  joint  intervention  in  Siberia, 
and  absolute  support  of  the  Czech  troops  there. 
This  report  was,  of  course,  true,  although  I  hesitated 
to  believe  it  at  the  time.  Moreover,  the  English  had 
already  invaded  the  country  at  Archangel,  and  had 
a  little  skirmishing  with  the  Red  Guards  there. 
French  officers  had  been  discovered  acting  with  the 
Czechs.  , 

These  events  greatly  excited  us  at  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
palace,  the  luxurious  home  of  a  Russian  ex(?)- 
millionaire,  where  we  were  putting  on  the  finishing 
touches  ^to  packing  already  planned  weeks  before. 
The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  leaders  believed  that  we  were  no 
longer  safe  as  Americans  in  Soviet  Russia;  the  spe- 
cial distinction  previously  accorded  us  would  of 
course  now  be  forfeited.  These  leaders,  however, 
wished  to  continue  the  work  of  their  secretaries 
trained  for  Russia ;  the  obvious  way  to  do  this  was  to 
go  across  the  lines  into  a  congenial  anti-Soviet  Rus- 
sia. Besides,  there  was  positive  reason  for  our  going 
thither  which  it  was  not  necessary  to  state.  I  was 
matter-of-fact  enough  to  protest  against  going,  at 
least  as  far  as  I  was  personally  involved,  on  the 
ground  that  intervention  in  Russian  affairs,  at  no 


COUNTER-REVOLUTION  83 

matter  what  military  gain,  was  wrong,  especially  for 
America;  for  by  any  logical  deduction  it  was  coun- 
ter-revolutionary. The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  is,  however,  not 
an  individual  with  a  conscience,  but  an  American 
social  group,  and,  therefore,  speculation  as  to  the 
righteousness  of  American  intervention  was  idle  to 
it ;  to  its  mind  the  bigger  social  group  in  which  it  was 
included  could  not  be  wrong. 

Accordingly,  the  whole  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  together  with 
a  small  group  of  Y.  W.  C.  A.  women,  went  to  Nishni- 
Novgorod  on  the  Volga  River,  hoping  to  get  from 
there  into  the  Czech  lines.  The  Czechs  and  counter- 
revolutionaries had  just  taken  Kazan  several  hun- 
dred miles  south  on  the  river,  and  the  counter-revolu- 
tionary Russians  and  all  foreigners  sympathizing 
with  them  hoped  that  Nishni  would  also  soon  fall, 
and  then,  promptly,  Moscow,  itself,  thus  making 
Russia  once  more  a  decent  civilized  country  for  them. 
We  spent  ten  days  at  Nishni-Novgorod,  living  first 
on  our  Y.  M.  special  cars  at  the  station,  and  later  on 
two  boats  at  the  wharves ;  the  Kerzenetz,  a  steamer 
lent  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  by  the  Soviet  Government  for  a 
campaign  of  agricultural  education,  and  another 
large  steamer.  It  was  a  delightful  house-boat  party. 
We  made  merry  with  tea-parties.  We  attended 
symphony  concerts  on  the  hill,  glimpsing  sunsets  on 
the  way  home ;  the  concert  was  an  hour  or  two  earlier 
than  usual,  because  martial  law  obtained  and  every 
person  had  to  be  in  his  house  by  ten  o'clock. 

But  the  prospect  of  welcoming  victorious  Czechs 
faded  day  by  day ;  we  had  to  read  of  constant  Bolshe- 


84.        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

vik  successes  against  them  on  the  Volga  front. 
Then,  removing  the  annoyance  of  making  our  own 
decisions,  came  the  order  of  the  American  Consul- 
General  for  us  to  return  to  Moscow.  As  it  hap- 
pened, we  left  Nishni  to  leave  Russia,  stopping  in 
Moscow  only  long  enough  to  move  our  baggage  to 
the  special  train  of  first-class  sleeping-coaches  that 
was  to  take  all  the  Americans  and  some  other  for- 
eigners out  of  Russia.  At  the  little  bridge  mark- 
ing the  boundary  between  Russia  and  Finland,  the 
Finnish  officials  read  out  our  names  from  our  pass- 
ports one  by  one.  As  my  name  was  called  and  I 
went  with  my  especial  lump  in  my  throat  over  to  the 
Finnish  side,  a  feeling  not  quite  homesickness  but 
something  like  it,  saddened  me.  We  made  the  jour- 
ney through  Finland  to  Stockholm  without  excite- 
ment. 


SMASHING  THE  LINES 

AN  ACCOUNT,  LARGELY  IMAGINARY, 
OF  BI-ORGANIZATION  ACTIVITY 

The  private  car  of  the  Association  stood  in  the 
railway  yard  just  a  little  way  from  the  Jaroslavki 
station  at  Moscow,  swept,  windows  being  washed ;  the 
car  that  had  traveled  in  a  wide  circle  for  us :  Petro- 
grad,  Samara,  Archangel !  It  must  be  occupied  with 
evidence  of  immediate  use  in  order  to  be  retained  by 
us;  it  was  a  favor  to  be  had  only  by  the  enjoying. 
And  "  Whiskers,"  a  reverend  Mr.  Whiskers,  and  I 
were  detailed  to  enjoy  it.  Accordingly  we  made 
ourselves  comfortable  in  one  of  its  coupes.  To  re- 
pair or  to  forestall,  sleeplessness,  I  have  forgotten 
which  now,  we  proceeded  to  take  a  nap ;  but  the  sun, 
shining  broadly  into  the  coupe,  and  the  flies,  which 
seemed  too  many  for  so  short  a  season,  combined  to 
defeat  our  purpose  until  we  counter-attacked  by 
spreading  newspapers  over  our  faces  and  hands ;  a 
suggestion  of  Whiskers  —  I  believe  he  had  slt'pt  away 
many  such  a  summer  afternoon  before.  Whiskers 
taught  me  also  the  value  of  cheese  for  such  a  waiting 
game.  He  had  bought  three  pounds  of  cheese  at  the 
famine  price  of  twenty  roubles  a  pound,  and  in  no 

time  at  all  he  had  consumed  two  pounds  and  I,  one. 

85 


86        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

It  was  exceedingly  young  cheese.  "  There's  nothing 
mature  in  this  country  nowadays,"  Whiskers  consol- 
ingly remarked;  however,  I  took  a  fancy  to  the 
cheese  in  just  that  degree  of  immaturity;  in  fact,  I 
learned  to  like  cheese  then  by  liking  it  young.  We 
passed  the  night  quietly  enough ;  I  was  not  disturbed 
by  the  shrill  whistling  of  the  shifting  engines  as  I 
had  expected,  from  previous  acquaintance  with  Rus- 
sian railroad-yards. 

In  the  morning  confusing  rumors  were  brought  to 
us.  One  was  that  we  should  all  go  out  of  Russia 
through  Finland.  The  German  representatives 
would  guarantee  us  safe  passage  through  Finland  if 
we  would  use  what  influence  we  had  to  help  Germans 
out  of  Russia  at  any  time.  As  an  alternative,  we 
should  travel  at  once  through  Siberia  and  America 
to  France  or  Northern  Russia. 

The  decision  reached  in  the  councils  of  the  chiefs  at 
26  Smolensky  Boulevard  was  to  go  to  Nishni  Nov- 
gorod. We  could  1  It  was  no  secret  why:  we  all 
considered  that  it  was  only  a  matter  of  days  before 
our  friends,  the  Czechs,  were  to  conquer  that  fair 
city. 

The  baggage!  Our  impediment!  Tons  of 
extras  that  are  the  traveler's  excuse  for  being !  For 
handling  baggage,  a  committee  was  appointed,  of 
which  I  have  been  a  happy  member  ever  since ;  Charlie 
Winthrop,  "  Senator  Charles,"  being  chairman. 
The  Y.  W.  C.  A.  were  making  their  escape  with  us ; 
consequently,  there  were  added  to  our  baggage  tons 
of  pots,  kettles,  and  wash-basins  —  white  wash- 


SMASHING  THE  LINES  87 

basins  that  in  dark  Russia  served  as  an  emblem  of 
the  cleansing  power  of  the  American  woman.  "  Bags 
and  kettles  to  the  Nicolaesky  Station !  "  was  the  or- 
der. Thither  bags  and  kettles  were  transported  by 
robber-baron  truck-drivers,  unloaded  by  their 
majesties,  the  porters,  and  then!  Then  we  learned 
that  our  cars  were  to  go  to  the  station  for  Nishni, 
the  Kursky  station.  To  the  Kursky  station,  then, 
ye  barons  and  kings  of  transport!  At  the  Kursky 
station  they  politely  told  us  that  our  cars  were  on 
the  way  between  the  two  stations  and  would  arrive 
probably  in  four  hours.  It  was  ten  o'clock  at  night. 
So,  tram  cars  having  stopped,  four  of  us  piled  into 
one  droshky,  looking  more  like  baggage  than  men, 
and  returned  to  "  26  Smolensky,"  to  sleep,  bedless ; 
on  guard  at  the  station  were  left  Hercules  Homestead 
and  Fred  Ness. 

At  ten  the  next  morning  our  cars  had  not  yet 
arrived  at  the  Kursky.  So  I  became  guard  of  the 
mountain  of  our  baggage  in  the  main  hall  of  the  sta- 
tion ;  I  sat  as  contentedly  as  possible  on  a  Y.  W.  C. 
A.  white  bath-tub  till  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
As  I  waited  I  read  in  an  old  Scribner's  a  romantic 
article  about  Old  Newport,  and  a  salty  description 
of  some  Maine  coast  towns  in  summer;  this  number 
had  its  article  on  Russia,  of  course :  Stuff  and  Non- 
sense manufactured  from  a  few  arranged  interviews 
with  officers  during  the  Kerensky  regime.  Hercules 
Homestead,  still  on  committee  duty,  amused  himself 
by  giving  twenty  kopecks  to  every  beggar  who  ap- 
proached him.  The  last  time  I  asked  his  count,  he 


88        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

had  distributed  twelve  roubles  among  sixty  beggars. 

The  train  was  to  pull  out  at  six.  At  five-thirty 
the  party,  including  the  "  Y  "  girls,  filed  through 
the  platform  gate,  muttering  "  Amerikanski  Messe  " 
to  the  challenging  guard,  and  marched,  loaded  with 
odd  scraps  of  baggage  picked  up  at  the  last  minute, 
to  cars  designated  by  a  knowing  Russian  secretary. 
And  made  a  mistake?  We  had  taken  possession  of 
the  wrong  cars  in  the  wrong  train,  the  special  train 
for  Nishni  of  Citizen  Trotsky  and  suite,  a  train  de 
luxe.  We  had  to  move  our  litter  to  more  compressed 
space.  Senator  Charles  left  behind  his  box  of 
leaflets  explaining  President  Wilson  to  the  Russian 
people;  he  said  this  was  not  a  case  of  his  reputed 
forgetfulness,  but  strategy.  After  a  fuss,  and  the 
bobbing  up  of  each  "  Y  "  girl  in  turn  to  inquire,  we 
found  the  right  cars,  with  name-tags  of  occupants, 
written  in  Pa  Sherman's  distinctive  hand,  tacked  to 
each  coupe.  Who  was  with  whom?  "  Goods  "  with 
"goods,"  "bads"  with  "bads"?  No,  a  mistake: 
two  smokers  with  two  non-smokers.  Righted,  at  the 
suggestion  of  the  non-smokers. 

To  Nishni  Novgorod,  the  Fair  City !  By  night ! 
A  cold,  frosty  night  with  a  bright  moon  displaying 
yellow  flat  grain  fields  and  silvery  birches,  and  rail- 
road banks  covered  with  dewy  wild-flowers.  In  our 
little  freight-car,  tagging  our  sleepers,  was  a  bour- 
geois store  of  flour  that  caused  us  uneasiness ;  some- 
how, somebody  might  detach  this  little  car.  A 
guard  was  appointed,  one  American,  and  one  Russian, 
secretary,  for  each  separate  hour  of  the  night,  in 


SMASHING  THE  LINES  89 

order  to  patrol  the  flour  at  each  stop  and  also  to 
keep  out  of  our  cars  the  crowds  of  Russians  traveling 
from  station  to  station.  During  my  watch  from 
three  to  four,  one  fellow  persisted  in  getting  on  our 
car;  the  young  Russian  who  was  on  guard  with  me 
maliciously  locked  him  into  the  vestibule,  with  the 
result,  so  the  young  Russian  told  me  with  huge  de- 
light, that  at  the  following  station,  which  happened 
to  be  his,  the  fellow  had  to  extricate  himself  and 
baggage  through  the  vestibule-door  window.  Dur- 
ing my  watch  we  passed  Vladimir.  The  walls  and 
buildings  of  its  Kremlin  shone  in  the  oblique  rays  of 
the  rising  sun,  a  magic  city,  white,  white,  white! 

So,  you  have  us  at  Nishni,  the  Y.  M.'s  and  the  Y. 
W.'s,  ready  for  the  dash  across  the  Red  lines !  By 
compromise,  by  plain  presto-change,  or  simply  by 
being  there  when  the  Czecho-Slovak  armies  moved 
into  town.  Let  me  narrate  that  campaign  of  the  two 
middle  weeks  of  August. 

We  Americans  must  not  be  conspicuous.  That 
was  the  order-in-council,  No.  1.  Therefore,  only  a 
few  of  us  could  go  to  town  at  the  same  time,  and  only 
two  together.  As  if  we  could  fool  the  Bolsheviks! 
They  knew  we  were  in  town  soon  enough  and  consid- 
ered our  case.  They  were  remarkably  courteous. 
However,  we  could  get  no  permission  to  go  through 
the  lines  to  Samara.  Messengers  were  sent  to  Mos- 
cow with  letters ;  we  thought  it  unwise  to  use  the  tele- 
graph. Mr.  Chicherin,  the  Bolshevik  foreign  min- 
ister, was  sick,  but  our  persistent  Mr.  Bavis  would 
get  the  permission  from  him  or  would  not  permit  him 


00        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

to  recover  health.  We  would  accept  a  permission  to 
leave  Russia  in  any  way ;  for  we  were  come  to  that, 
now.  While  it  was  preferable  just  to  fade  away 
into  that  part  of  Russia  returned  to  law  and  order, 
still  it  was  above  all  imperative  that  we  disappear 
altogether  from  this  land  of  the  federated  republics. 
Feeling  was  rising  against  the  Americans.  The 
distinction  between  us  and  the  English  was  growing 
slighter  and  slighter.  The  girl  who  sold  us  flour- 
candy  at  a  Nishni  store  called  us  "  enemy."  That 
same  morning's  yesterday's  Tfravda  had  announced 
the  landing  of  the  Japanese  and  the  American 
"  Imperialists "  at  Vladivostok.  Members  of  our 
party  were  arrested  frequently  by  some  simple- 
minded  Red-Guards  for  officers.  Such  a  stupid  mis- 
take !  Who  would  take  our  dusty,  f rowsily-dressed 
secretaries  for  bourgeoisie !  And  then,  too,  so  arbi- 
trarily to  misplace  us:  the  American  can  never  con- 
sider himself  as  bourgeois ;  that's  a  foreign  term  and 
a  foreign  conception.  But  you  see  the  class  struggle 
all  over  Russia  was  becoming  keener  and  keener. 
Every  town  had  its  committee  against  counter-revo- 
lution. In  Petrograd  and  in  Moscow  all  officers  were 
arrested  and  many  held  in  confinement.  However  we 
looked,  we  certainly  felt  smudgy  —  till  we  found  one 
of  the  city's  steambaths  —  but  I  suppose  our  faces 
were  too  intelligent  not  to  give  us  away.  One  even- 
ing the  whole  party  was  arrested  at  the  station  as 
we  were  eating  dinner,  and  marched,  hatless  and  coat- 
less  —  and  caneless  —  to  the  police  station.  The 
committee-head  there,  after  hearing  what  interpre- 


SMASHING  THE  LINES  91 

ters  had  to  say  for  us,  pronounced  the  whole  affair 
an  unfortunate  misunderstanding,  and  we  fellows 
pronounced  it  a  grand  lark  —  that  is,  afterward ! 

Every  such  campaign  has  its  determinative  epi- 
sodes. Every  such  set  of  days  has  its  own  gist  for 
diaries.  So,  amid  the  suspense  of  this  fortnight, 
there  began  for  two  in  the  joint  parties,  an  engross- 
ing, and  for  all  of  us,  a  diverting,  series  of  episodes 
that,  at  times,  made  private  interest  eclipse  inter- 
national. It  was  so ! 

In  my  coupe,  among  the  four  (?)  "goods"  was 
one  Fred  Ness,  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  secretary  of  several 
years'  service  in  China  and  Russia :  plain  in  appear- 
ance, but  sound  in  judgment,  full  of  initiative,  and 
withal  comparatively  open-minded.  One  quickly 
felt  there  was  a  lack  of  savor  in  him ;  perhaps  it  was 
that  by  going  on  Y.  M.  C.  A.  service  to  China  in  his 
early  twenties  he  had  lost  touch  with  the  tang  of  the 
social  life  of  men  and  women  of  his  own  age.  His 
slang  was  arrested  at  the  college-graduate  period. 
It  was,  you  might  say,  academic.  He  hadn't  been 
disillusioned  in  the  microscopic  world  of  money  and 
theater-going,  of  book-talk  and  women  —  many 
women;  he  was  drafted  into  the  macrocosm  of 
"  China  for  the  world !  "  Any  man  of  twenty  would 
be  dwarfed  by  such  large  aims. 

Fred  by  accident  came  to  eat  with  the  Y  girls 
in  their  car.  He  happened  to  pass  through  at  din- 
ner-time one  day  and  exclaimed  "  ah !  "  at  the  rice 
pudding;  after  that  he  ate  four  meals  and  his  teas 
there  every  day.  There  also  he  found  several  other 


Y.  M.'s,  attracted  by  some  convenience  or  other. 
And  already  the  pairing  had  begun.  It  happens  so 
in  any  society  that  holds  together  a  week,  or  in  a 
house-party  over  a  week-end.  What  so  natural  that 
it  should  happen  when  a  group  of  educated  young 
Americans  of  both  sexes  meet  on  national  service 
abroad!  What  better  way  to  forget  Trotsky  and 
the  orders  of  "  a  state  of  siege  " ! 

Fred  was  in  siege.  It  was  the  black-haired  Elise 
that  first  he  noticed,  then  admired,  then  acquired  as 
a  habit.  Elise  was  a  woman  who  could  travel  over 
a  whole  continent  with  only  a  knapsack,  a  new  kind  of 
woman  to  Fred.  He  didn't  know  that  while  he  had 
been  apart  from  women  in  his  American  university 
and  in  China,  the  woods  were  becoming  full  of  such 
trim  women,  women  without  those  loose  ends  that  his 
sisters  and  female  cousins  exhibited.  Elise  was  firm 
and  quick  to  make  clean,  ample  plans  of  action.  She 
bought  curios  and  pictures  with  talkativeness.  She 
could  describe  a  little  shop  in  an  off-street,  so  that 
a  man  would  hunt  it  out  the  next  morning  for  him- 
self, or,  if  he  understood  woman's  way  of  inviting, 
would  request  the  lady  to  conduct  him,  herself,  to  the 
spot.  And  Elise  knew  French  and  German  well 
enough  to  make  the  learning  of  Russian  by  the  com- 
parative method  seem  easy  and  entertaining  to  a 
fellow  —  any  way  is  easier  than  learning  by  a  book ! 
Furthermore,  Elise  was.  without  doubt,  a  woman: 
uncertain,  full  of  interesting  little  wishes,  and  al- 
ways sympathetic  toward  Fred's  little  ways  of  think- 
ing. She  understood  why  he  had  tried  foreign  serv- 


SMASHING  THE  LINES  93 

ice,  just  during  those  formative  years,  too;  it  was 
better  than  the  crude  ambition  to  make  money  in 
New  York  or  Chicago. 

Fred's  warm  social  life  was  only  a  little  more 
lively  than  that  of  the  rest  of  us  up  there  at  Nishni. 
Miss  Sayles,  an  old-maid  at  twenty-four,  and  Miss 
Morton  of  the  thick  eyeglasses,  far  less  an  old-maid 
at  thirty-nine,  also  attracted  "  regulars,"  but  for  all 
we  might  conjecture,  these  might  be  only  flirtations. 
Besides,  to  be  sure,  there  was  Mr.  Niles  who  was 
doubtless  engaged  to  Miss  Tibbetts,  but  his  was  one 
of  those  unromantic  cases  of  mild  propinquity  that 
can  never  make  deep  gossip ;  everybody  simply  said : 
"  Why  don't  they  announce  it,  so  we  can  have  a 
party,  so  we  can  be  sentimental  about  it,  even  if  they, 
themselves,  aren't." 

We  all  "  got  pretty  thick."  Within  thirty-six 
hours  we  were  calling  each  other  by  first-names.  Our 
social  life  wasn't  the  less  cool,  nor  the  less  lively,  that 
we  were  living  on  a  boat !  You  see  we  were  thrown 
out  of  our  special  cars  on  Track  No.  6  in  the  rail- 
road yard.  Some  railroad  commissar  sent  word 
by  a  saucy  deputy  that  our  railroad  cars 
were  not  given  us  for  hotels,  and  later  we 
received  a  handsome  rent-bill  covering  the  days 
we  had  lived  in  the  cars.  Then  John  Daly 
shrewdly  engaged  for  our  occupation  one  of  the 
squadron  of  boats  tied  up  in  enforced  idleness  at  the 
Volga  wharfs.  It  was  an  old  fellow,  used  of  late 
only  in  the  local  traffic,  full  of  small  life  —  they 
called  for  my  last  can  of  Thomson's  powder  (buy 


94        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

Thomson's,  it  is  the  deadliest  kind!).  On  this  boat 
our  parties  were  divided  into  two  groups.  I  was 
quartered  in  second-class,  where  were  all  the  Y  girls. 
The  men  at  the  other  end  were,  strange  to  say,  better 
fed:  they  had  among  them  a  born  cook;  his  menus 
comprehended  all  the  requisite  food  values,  and  bet- 
ter still,  double  the  number  of  necessary  calories. 
But  we  on  our  end  of  the  old  tub  suffered  no  lack ! 
We  also  had  griddle  cakes,  a  real  pie,  American  pud- 
dings; and  we  alone  had  a  genuine  double-decker, 
chocolate  frosted-cake.  The  Russian  secretaries 
called  this  Mazurka,  a  Polish  concoction ;  however  I 
am  certain  that,  though  generally  speaking  the 
Russian  cooking  may  excel  ours,  they  don't  know 
how  to  bake  anything  quite  like  a  Yankee  frosted- 
cake.  Elise  made  the  frosting,  Fred  scraped  the 
frosting-dish !  Such  were  his  privileges  during  those 
days  when  we  were  all  privileged  to  live  high,  higher 
than  we  had  lived  since  we  left  home.  And  it  didn't 
cost  us  a  great  deal,  only  about  fifteen  roubles 
($1.80)  per  day. 

You  can  imagine  what  parties  we  had :  tea  parties, 
reading  parties,  Russian-study  parties,  marketing 
parties !  The  tea  parties  were  for  the  small  sets  of 
pairs,  of  from  four  to  six  persons.  Passing  by  cabin 
doors,  one  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  all  the  good 
things;  jam,  honey,  butter,  sugar  and  white  bread! 
Now  you  must  know  that  all  these  articles  are  at  the 
present  time  in  Russia  more  rare  and  more  to  be 
desired  than  ancient  wines.  The  opening  of  a  pot 
of  jam,  jam  in  which  sugar  is  mixed  as  it  used  to  be 


SMASHING  THE  LINES  95 

in  the  old  pre-famine  days,  is  attended  by  much 
ceremony  and  much  watering  of  the  mouth.  I  sat 
in  at  one  reading  party.  A  simple  translated  story 
of  Tolstoy's  was  read  by  one  of  the  wits,  by  the  fel- 
low who  amused  himself  editing  a  daily  nonsense- 
sheet  and  writing  festive  poems.  I  seated  myself 
near  the  sugar-bowl,  and  in  the  tense  moments  of 
the  narration  —  some  parts  of  the  story  were  very 
touching !  —  I  smuggled  lump  after  lump  of  sugar 
into  my  tea,  tea  so  strong  that  one  couldn't  see  the 
lump  dissolve  in  it !  All  these  folks  are  indeed  fond 
of  Tolstoy ;  every  one  has  him  along ;  he  survives  each 
paring  of  baggage. 

This  military  adventure  of  ours,  this  attempt  to 
break  through  the  crumbling  (?)  lines  of  the  Bolshe- 
viks was  a  blithesome  time,  and  to  give  it  up,  brought 
us,  as  day-to-day  mortals,  real  sorrow.  But  it  was 
a  failure,  at  least  as  a  short-time  proposition.  We 
all  believed  that  sooner  or  later  there  would  be  an- 
other power  in  Nishni  Novgorod  than  the  Bolsheviks, 
but  we  couldn't  await  that  day.  The  Bolsheviks 
were  roguishly  winning  little  victories  down  the  river. 
Our  good  consul-general  insisted  that  we  come  to 
Moscow:  Moscow  was  a  better  point  of  departure! 
As  we  assembled  for  a  religious  service,  Sunday 
morning,  August  25th,  in  the  first-class  saloon,  our 
leader  remarked  how  it  seemed  that  all  our  important 
movements  in  Russia  had  had  to  be  made  on  Sunday ; 
telegrams  were  read ;  there  was  no  case  even  for  argu- 
ment about  alternatives ;  so  we  should  try  to  make 
the  evening  train  for  Moscow  if  permissions  from  the 


96        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

Nishni  authorities  could  be  obtained  during  the  day ; 
there  was  no  time  for  the  religious  service ;  the  heavy 
baggage  must  be  ready  within  an  hour;  a  small  tug 
would  pull  alongside  for  it. 

But  in  the  face  of  this  doom,  we  in  second-class 
continued  our  revels.  That  was  the  day  of  the 
frosted-cake.  There  were  "  last  teas  "  in  the  after- 
noon. At  six  o'clock  word  came  that  the  light  bag- 
gage must  be  down  instantly  for  the  droshkies.  This 
news  occasioned  a  scramble !  We  "  downed "  hot 
cocoa  and  white  bread  and  jam,  and,  helter-skelter, 
packed  kettles  and  pans,  camp  chairs  and  cooking- 
dishes.  We  must  not  leave  behind  the  family  broom ; 
our  broom  had  been  a  find;  it's  only  brushes  they 
use  in  Russia.  Other  household  essentials  to  be  sure 
to  pack  were  the  fool  maimed  doll  and  our  salt  and 
pepper  knick-knacks,  Napoleon  and  Joseph,  table 
gods.  Another  word  came !  The  droshkies  will  not 
come  for  us ;  they  fear  the  early  closing-hour  in  the 
state  of  siege.  A  catastrophe,  indeed!  A  big  pile 
of  our  baggage  lay  at  the  wharf  beside  the  boat. 
The  station  was  three  miles  distant.  But  large 
promises  brought  first  one  droshky  and  then  another. 
Meantime,  the  members  of  the  party  hurried  off  to 
the  station,  some  riding  and  some  shank's-mare, 
carrying  along  as  much  of  their  own  personal  belong- 
ings as  bearable.  I  was  one  of  the  victims  who 
walked,  carrying  my  rucksack  on  my  back,  with  tea- 
pot and  water-bottle  tied  to  it ;  a  typewriter,  walk- 
ing stick,  and  small  traveling-bag  in  one  hand;  and 
on  my  shoulder  balancing  a  sheet,  which  contained 


SMASHING  THE  LINES  97 

all  the  traveling  equipment  of  Lena,  a  sweet  little 
Russian  domestic  attached  to  the  Y.  W.  C.  A.  Lena 
was  trotting  along  beside  me,  and  trying  to  keep  up 
with  my  long  strides,  and  saying  "  Nicheva,"  which 
translated  in  this  case,  might  mean :  "  there  is  no 
hurry!" 

Fred  and  Elise  were  the  last  to  go.  Fred  was 
that  magnanimous  he  would  not  leave  the  burning 
deck.  And  Elise  was  as  magnanimous  as  Fred !  In 
a  broken  caravan,  Y.  M.'s  and  Y.  W.'s,  manservants 
and  maidservants,  goods  and  chattels, —  all  reached 
the  station  in  time,  except  Fred  and  Elise.  They, 
faithful  ones,  saw  the  last  scraps  of  that  pile  of 
baggage  on  a  droshky,  including  the  maimed  doll, 
and  Napoleon  and  Joseph,  but  there  was  no  room  re- 
maining for  them  to  ride.  They  waited  too  long  for 
another  droshky  and  missed  the  train.  They  were 
the  only  Americans  left  in  the  city.  They  hadn't  a 
piece  of  baggage  between  them;  and,  what  was  a 
more  serious  inconvenience,  neither  spoke  more  than 
traveler's  Russian. 

Of  course  Fred  and  Elise  showed  signs  of  despair, 
but  the  despair  of  the  one  melting  into  the  despair 
of  the  other  brought  to  both  hope,  courage,  even 
joy!  Indeed,  their  misfortune  might  be  regarded 
as  a  stroke  of  luck;  Fred  probably  thinks  he  would 
never  have  won  his  fair  Elise  without  such  a  turn  of 
events :  I  suppose  Elise  has  persuaded  him  of  that  by 
now. 

They  went  back  to  the  boat,  as  if  there  was  no 
other  place  to  go  to.  Fred  borrowed  blankets  from 


98        SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  caretaker  there,  and  he  made  up  a  bed  in  the 
second-class,  and  she  in  the  first-class,  at  opposite 
ends  of  the  boat.  I  can  imagine  that  the  common 
danger  did  not  take  the  edge  off  the  usual  ardor  of 
their  "  spooning,"  as  they  walked  this  night  on  top 
the  boat  in  the  moonlight.  This  night,  there  was  no 
one  below  for  their  footsteps  to  disturb,  provoking 
later  reference. 

In  the  morning  they  found  a  Russian  formerly  in 
the  service  of  the  Association.  He  helped  them  to 
get  united  in  a  Bolshevik  marriage.  As  you  may 
guess,  this  consisted  of  the  barest  declarations  before 
a  magistrate.  It  is  hard  to  believe  that  Fred  would 
consent  to  such  an  outlandish  thing.  It  shows  how 
much  Fred  had  changed;  he  had  indeed  caught  up 
with  the  times!  Having  gone  that  much  off  the 
beaten  track,  he  did  not  go  directly  back;  having 
followed  one  bypath  at  random,  he  followed  another ! 

Jokingly,  several  of  us  had  discussed  while  at 
Nishni  the  feasibility  of  walking  over  to  the  Czech 
lines.  Fred  had  not  been  one  of  these  several:  this 
wasn't  exactly  his  kind  of  humor.  But  now  in  all 
reality  these  newly-weds  undertook  the  "  walking 
trip."  They  might  have  thought  to  overtake  us  at 
Moscow  or  Petrograd.  They  could  have  done  so. 
But  I  suppose  they  had  ceased  to  think  of  us.  Prob- 
ably they  were  glad  to  be  rid  of  us ;  we  had  poked 
such  fun  at  them ;  as  people  will  poke  fun  at  lovers. 

The  pair  had  roubles  enough  between  them ;  Fred, 
a  good  many,  I  think.  They  bought  two  knapsacks 


SMASHING  THE  LINES  99 

and  light  provisions  and  set  out.  From  village  to 
village  they  progressed,  by  hired  conveyances  where 
possible.  They  bought  food  and  slept,  as  it  was 
most  convenient.  I  suppose  they  did  not  care  how 
long  or  how  difficult  their  journey  was  —  why  worry 
away  a  honeymoon? 

It  was  inevitable  that  they  should  become  recog- 
nized as  foreigners.  Several  Bolshevik  soldiers  were 
sent  to  arrest  them.  Luckily  the  Bolshevik  in  charge 
was  an  officer  of  the  old  army,  and  instead  of  arrest- 
ing them,  he  actually  put  them  across  the  lines.  The 
Red  Army  is  full  of  such  fellows,  men  serving  for  a 
livelihood,  or  serving  to  aid  at  the  proper  moment 
in  the  counter-revolution.  I  have  every  reason  to 
believe  that  there  are  wide-spread  plots  to  restore  a 
more  or  less  conservative  government,  and  that  the 
conspirators  are  putting  their  men  in  positions  where 
they  can  forward  the  counter-revolution  from  inside 
the  Bolshevik  army,  itself!  Such  a  pseudo- 
Bolshevik  was  the  commissar  in  re  Fred  Ness 
and  wife !  And  this  same  fellow  coming  on  some  mis- 
sion intrusted  to  him  by  the  Proletarian  leaders,  to 
Petrograd,  while  we  were  detained  there  before  being 
granted  permission  to  leave  Russia  via  Finland  — 
told  a  diplomat  on  our  train,  and  the  diplomat  told 
us,  this  termination  or  climax,  of  the  story  of  Fred 
and  Elise.  This  seems  to  me  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able things  I  have  known  in  Russia.  For  I  think  I 
know  the  characters  of  Fred  and  Elise,  and  they 
acted  contrary  to  their  characters:  they  acted  like 


100      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

genuine  Russians.  The  fact  remains  that  they  alone 
of  the  lot  of  us  did  smash  the  lines  and  are  now  safely 
on  the  other  side,  already  giving  succor  to  our  allies, 
while  we  travel  half-way  round  the  world  to  be  in  a 
position  to  do  so. 


SUNLESS  KOLA 

While  we  were  comforting  and  regaling  ourselves 
in  Stockholm,  after  getting  out  of  Soviet  Russia, 
news  came  that  our  party  of  American  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
war  secretaries  was  to  go  to  North  Russia  in  the 
vicinity  of  Archangel  o*  Murmansk.  Immediately 
I  saw  in  prospect  a  house  of  ice  and  a  hibernating 
life  like  that  of  an  Eskimo.  What  else  could  one 
expect  two  hundred  miles  north  of  the  Arctic  Circle ! 
And  never  was  this  particular  error  of  my  geograph- 
ical imagination  entirely  corrected  till  a  year  later 
when,  outside  Russia  altogether,  I  came  across  a 
comparative  table  of  Russian  temperatures  and 
learned  that  the  average  winter  temperature  of 
Archangel  was  only  a  fraction  of  a  degree  colder 
than  that  of  Kazan  a  thousand  miles  to  the  south; 
moreover,  at  Kola,  where  I  spent  my  winter,  our 
proximity  to  the  gulf-stream  must  have  raised  our 
average  temperature  several  degrees  above  that  of 
Archangel. 

On  the  way  to  our  destined  hibernation,  Birkhaug 
and  I  were  diverted  for  three  weeks  to  the  Nor- 
wegian town  of  Kirkenes  at  the  northern  terminus 
of  the  coast-line  steamers.  A  large  majority  of  the 
population  of  Kirkenes  were  workers  for  a  German- 
owned  iron  mine  that  during  the  war  was  being 

101 


102      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

worked  only  at  a  minimum  rate.  The  spirit  of  that 
town  was  modern,  in  spite  of  its  being  at  a  land*s-end : 
it  was  a  world  unto  itself,  and  distinctly  a  labor 
world.  The  miners  had  their  own  newspaper,  co- 
operative store,  and  club.  The  editor  of  their  social- 
ist newspaper  was  their  preacher  and  legislator.  In 
a  funeral  sermon  over  the  body  of  a  young  man  from 
the  town  who  had  been  one  of  the  many  victims  of  an 
epidemic  raging  at  a  camp  among  those  doing  their 
two  years  of  military  service,  this  editor  made  a 
violent  attack  on  military  conscription.  All  of  this 
violent  preacher's  flock  were  Bolshevik  Socialists; 
there  were  many  such  flocks  in  Norway,  I  was  led 
to  believe.  One  of  the  few  ladies  in  the  place  in- 
formed me  in  a  tone  of  horror  that  all  the  housemaids 
in  Norway  belonged  to  a  union. 

That  bleak  town  nestled  in  a  hollow  among  high 
rocks  jutting  into  the  Arctic  Sea  had  a  physical 
fascination  for  me.  I  roamed  the  high  rocks  often. 
Just  those  cliffs,  the  sea,  and  the  sunshine  provided 
for  me  great  wild  beauty ;  such  as  I  had  only  imag- 
ined before;  it  helped  me  to  understand  what  fed 
the  imagination  of  Bjornson  in  the  creation  of  those 
imperishable  stories  of  his.  There  was  one  small 
meadow  in  the  place,  and  some  of  the  vegetable 
gardens,  though  frosted,  were  still  green  in  October. 

These  weeks  among  the  desolate  rocks,  and  among 
the  hardy,  Bolshevik  Norwegians  prepared  me  for 
the  bleakness  of  North  Russia  and  for  the  simple, 
kindly  Russian  folks  of  Kola,  much  gayer  than  their 
Norwegian  brethren  across  the  border.  Villagers 


SUNLESS  KOLA  103 

passing  along  the  main  wooden  sidewalk  of  Kola  were 
never  too  cold  to  stop  for  a  greeting,  usually  cheer- 
ful and  often  ample.  For  two  months  those  Russians 
lived  absolutely  without  sight  of  the  sun,  and  some 
days  with  the  moon  yellow  at  midday.  In  such  a 
country  a  sunny  face  has  its  value. 

Kola,  nine  miles  from  Murmansk,  at  the  end  of 
Kola  Bay,  under  Telegraph  Hill,  was,  before  the 
advent  of  the  railroad  and  the  growth  of  Murmansk, 
the  port  town  of  the  region,  and  what  trading  the 
sparse  population  needed  was  effected  here,  chiefly 
with  Norwegians.  It  was  this  town  a  British  fleet 
attacked  during  the  Crimean  War.  Townspeople 
will  point  to  you  to-day  signs  of  the  damage  done 
the  village  by  that  bombardment. 

British  troops  then,  1918-1919,  were  again  at 
Kola ;  in  coats  of  a  different  color,  but  with  the  same 
British  hearts  beating  underneath ;  and  British  coat 
and  heart  aroused,  no  doubt,  the  same  feelings  in  the 
native  population  of  1850  as  I  witnessed  aroused 
seventy  years  later.  At  the  village  of  Kola  was  the 
British  (and  Allied)  headquarters  of  the  northern 
half  of  the  Murmansk  military  district.  Here  were 
stationed  a  regiment  or  two  of  British  troops,  and  a 
full  battalion  of  Italians.  Practically  all  the  sol- 
diers were  quartered  in  hastily-erected  barracks  at 
Kola  Station,  two  miles  from  the  village. 

The  presence  of  such  a  host  of  foreign  visitors 
made  me  feel  less  distant  from  the  moving  world  of 
humanity,  less  as  if  connected  with  a  party  for  polar 
exploration.  Life  moved  fast  in  Kola,  for  Kola. 


Wireless  messages  from  the  western  front,  and  later 
from  Paris,  were  received  daily.  We  knew  critical 
news  as  soon  as  Londoners,  but  we  had  to  wait  from 
three  to  four  weeks  for  London  newspapers,  to  know 
those  small  straws  of  information  that  show  the  way 
the  wind  is  blowing,  and  without  which  critical  news 
loses  force  and  meaning.  We  learned,  for  example, 
that  the  Republicans  had  captured  the  American 
Congressional  elections,  but  we  couldn't  know  why: 
whether  it  meant  Wilson  had  grown  unpopular,  that 
the  war  was  unpopular,  or  that  a  domestic  policy  had 
discredited  the  administration.  News  came  of  the 
overwhelming  defeat  of  the  Independent-Liberal  and 
Labor  parties  in  England,  but  the  election  figures 
told  no  story.  And  it  is  story,  after  all,  that  makes 
political  facts  interesting,  not  the  facts  themselves. 
People  who  read  only  political  headlines  in  their 
newspapers,  naturally  cannot  enjoy  the  game  of 
politics,  nor,  in  the  long  run  —  if  you  will  pardon 
an  American  for  saying  so  —  can  they  vote  in- 
telligently. 

The  news  of  the  armistice  brought  the  same  per- 
sonal tremors  in  Kola  that  it  brought  in  London  or 
New  York,  though  our  public  demonstration  of  our 
feelings  of  relief  was  quite  humble.  Kola's  celebra- 
tion and  mine  happened  November  12,  according  to 
orders  from  headquarters,  in  this  way.  At  ten  the 
troops  marched  behind  the  excellent  band  of  the 
Italians  through  the  village,  with  a  review  in  front 
of  the  church.  I  had  a  Stars  and  Stripes  packed 
at  the  bottom  of  one  of  50  unpacked  parcels,  and  by 


SUNLESS  'KOLA  105 

the  time,  after  a  tearing  search,  I  had  guessed  the 
right  parcel,  it  was  too  late  to  have  it  present  at  the 
review;  but,  brought  to  the  light,  it  served,  at  any 
rate,  to  proclaim  Americanism  to  the  village,  being 
hung  on  a  pole  atop  a  high  fence,  just  beneath, —  as 
was  right  and  fitting  —  my  landlord's  Russian  flag. 
There  was  a  Te  Deum  at  the  church,  a  thanksgiving 
for  the  advent  of  peace,  or,  at  least,  of  the  ceasing  of 
formal  warfare.  Then  for  four  solid  hours,  in  a 
lusty  and  a  carefree  Russian  way,  the  church  bells 
were  rung.  I  saw  the  boys,  five  or  six,  up  there  in 
the  belfry,  dressed  in  warm  hats  and  mittens,  pulling 
the  tongues  of  the  bells  with  ropes. 

Bells  of  Russia! 

Flute,  drum  and  fiddle. 

Staccato   and   succulent, 

Sweet  and  somnolent, 

And  always  musical: 

Most  melodious  bells  of  gay-sad  Russia! 

That  church  tower,  even  when  silent  as  well,  rang 
out  a  message  of  its  own.  On  top  of  it  was  a  huge 
green  dome,  surmounted  by  a  small  gilded  dome  and 
gilded  rod.  These  colors  made  warm  the  landscape 
for  miles  around,  and  the  white  of  the  church's  high 
walls  was  a  rallying  point  for  the  bright  colors  of  the 
other  buildings  of  the  village  to  cluster  about.  The 
C.  O.  (commanding  officer)  invited  some  Russian 
dignitary  to  lunch,  and  chatted  with  him  decorously 
in  Russian  (here  was  one  English  officer  who  could 
speak,  and  speak  well,  the  native  language).  This 


106      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

representative  native  had  plenty  of  beard,  which 
appeared  most  flourishing  when  he  raised  a  glass  of 
the  mess's  best  whiskey  to  his  lips.  He  wore  proudly 
a  decent  suit  of  »black  clothes  that  did  not  allow  for 
his  corpulence,  and  he  was  as  gracious  and  cere- 
monious as  a  Russian  may  be.  I  suppose  the  C.  O. 
was  delineating  what  a  future  lies  in  store  for  Russia 
when  order  finally  comes  in  its  affairs. 

In  the  afternoon  I  followed  a  beckoning  white  road 
into  the  hills.  I  passed  English  soldiers  at  a  game 
of  football,  beating  their  arms  to  keep  warm  as  they 
ran.  A  long  stretch  of  water,  steely-blue,  ran  up  out 
of  sight  among  the  hills  where  the  sun  was  setting. 
I  returned  through  the  village  streets.  The  houses, 
generally  built  of  hewn  logs,  look  like  blockhouses; 
they  have  little  windows,  the  lines  of  many  of  them 
are  aslant;  and  there  is  usually  a  high  board  fence 
with  a  wide  gate,  enclosing  their  yards.  Women  in 
the  thinnest  clothes  and  no  stockings  were  crossing 
the  yards.  Mischievous-looking  children  were  play- 
ing at  the  street-corners.  At  a  shrine  down  on  the 
peninsula-end,  at  the  head  of  the  village,  where  there 
are  a  large  wooden  cross,  six  feet  high,  under  a  wooden 
canopy,  and  a  tiny  chapel  with  two  bells  hung  out- 
side, I  met  a  group  of  boys  playing.  They  teased  me 
for  cigarettes.  I  asked  them  what  the  white  cross 
was  for.  They  said  it  was  Boog  (God).  They 
spoke  neither  seriously  nor  mockingly. 

In  the  evening  was  a  dinner  at  Kola  Station  for 
the  Allied  officers  and  their  guests.  All  the  Allies 


SUNLESS  KOLA  107 

were  toasted  in  turn.  For  Russia,  spoke  up  Engi- 
neer Kozcvnekoff ,  thereafter  nicknamed  "  The  Father 
of  Humanity,"  urging  international  fraternity,  and 
so  forth  !  "  Bas  les  Boshes !  Bas  les  Boshes !  "  came 
the  cry,  quite  good-naturedly,  from  all  the  diners. 
The  Father  of  Humanity  was  outvoted  in  this  league 
of  nations ;  and  giving  an  unexpected  brotherly  kiss 
to  Padre  Rawson,  he  accepted  with  resignation  the 
positive  check  his  extreme  humanitarianism  had  re- 
ceived. 

Old  Kozevnekoff  had  a  witty  way  of  putting  his 
points  that  entitled  him  to  considerable  license. 
Here  are  instances  of  his  wit ;  the  man  is  worth  the 
digression.  He  was  having  tea  with  the  machine  gun 
officers  one  day  and  took  an  especial  liking  to  the 
corn  syrup.  "  Let  me  try  a  combination,"  he  ex- 
claimed, his  wolfish  eyes  twinkling.  And  he  was 
permitted  to  spread  first  butter,  then  jam,  then 
syrup,  on  a  Huntley  &  Palmer  biscuit.  Raising  it 
before  the  mess  in  the  candle-light,  he  made  his  point 
with  deliberate  preciseness.  "  See  here  the  butter, 
the  jam,  the  syrup  on  this  biscuit  —  the  four  Allies, 
three  on  the  back  of  the  biggest  (Russia)  ! "  An- 
other day  he  was  inquiring  of  some  Y.  M.  C.  A.  secre- 
taries if  the  Russian  civilians  might  buy  at  their  can- 
teens. "  Sorry,  no !  "  they  replied  with  careful  con- 
cern ;  "  we  are  forbidden  to  sell  except  to  soldiers.'* 
"  And  may  the  Russian  soldiers  buy  from  you?  "  he 
inquired  further.  "  Certainly,  the  Russian  soldiers 
will  be  treated  exactly  as  the  other  Allied  troops." 


108      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

"  Then,"  commented  Kozevnekoff,  briefly,  "  it  will  be 
necessary  for  the  civilian  to  be  acquainted  with  a 
Russian  soldier !  " 

After  dinner,  as  the  strange  end  to  the  day  of 
celebration,  came  the  evening  telegram  sheet  with  the 
news  that  the  old  German  government  had  been  com- 
pletely overturned  and  that  a  new  cabinet  had  been 
formed  of  three  Majority  and  three  Independent 
Socialists.  This  news  might  raise  questions  in  the 
imaginative  mind.  Such  things,  it  was  possible, 
might  affect  vitally  that  very  victory  we  had  just 
celebrated.  But  such  questioning,  if  there  were  any, 
—  perhaps  some  minds  cannot  conceive  of  any  revo- 
lution until  it  is  an  accomplished  fact!  —  held  no 
serious  place  in  the  minds  of  the  officers  of  the  gar- 
rison, then  jubilant  and  far  from  sober.  The  next 
day  and  the  next  day  following,  their  minds  were 
occupied,  on  the  one  hand,  with  matters  of  admin- 
istrative detail,  and,  on  the  other,  with  the  day's 
sport  or  the  week's  dance. 

That  was  an  ideal  country  for  skiing.  Officers 
went  about  their  tasks  on  skis;  they  made  the  jour- 
ney to  Murmansk  that  way.  A  mobile  column,  call- 
ing for  the  enlistment  of  sportsmen,  was  trained  to 
be  of  military  service  on  skis. 

The  town  boys  seemed  most  proficient  in  the  sport. 
Their  skis  were  home-made,  often  as  rude  as  barrel 
staves,  and  one  ski  S9emed  to  be  as  good  as  two. 
They  would  also  toboggan  downhill  on  every  descrip- 
tion of  a  box.  Their  swiftest  way  of  getting  about 
town  was  on  skates. 


SUNLESS  KOLA  109 

The  prize  stunt  was  to  obtain  the  chance  to  drive 
to  Rustikent  by  reindeer  teams.  That  ~^as  rapid 
travel,  indeed;  scaling  the  sides  of  steep  hills  and 
crossing  country  where  roads  could  never  be.  It  is 
a  pretty  sight  to  see  a  team  of  reindeer  swinging 
along  in  open  country;  it  is  a  thrilling  experience 
to  be  so  carried.  The  reindeer  will  travel  24  hours 
at  a  stretch  without  rest  or  food.  The  caryosas  in 
which  persons  are  carried  for  such  a  cross-country 
journey  are  in  size  and  appearance  like  a  light  boat ; 
several  are  tied  together,  and  are  pulled  in  a  string 
by  a  team  of  several  animals.  Often  one  of  the 
caryosas  is  caught  by  a  tree  or  bush  and  broken  off 
from  the  team;  often  this  light  carriage  is  tipped 
over  with  all  its  contents.  On  the  Rustikent  trip,  the 
whole  party  is  put  up  on  one  night  in  a  small  shack 
already  densely  populated  with  a  native  family  or 
two;  if  properly  equipped,  it  may  bivouac  in  the 
snow.  When  after  a  journey  of  two  or  three  days 
the  traveler  arrives  at  Rustikent,  he  is  entertained  by 
the  widowed  Queen  of  the  Lapps,  who  wears  the  most 
exquisite  furs,  and  who  makes  him  the  most  liberal 
presents  (to  be  returned,  of  course,  with  presents  of 
greater  value  in  her  eyes).  For  this  northern  queen 
is  wealthy:  she  owns  many  herds  of  reindeer;  her 
rule,  as  the"  rule  of  a  modern  sovereign  should  be,  is 
based  upon  economic  supremacy.  But  the  foreign 
pilgrims,  no  matter  of  what  rank,  are  given  the  honor 
of  playing  cards  with  her,  and  following  such  inti- 
macies are  permitted  before  departure  to  put  her  on 
their  kodak  films  in  her  most  queenly  furs.  In  Rus- 


tikent,  the  Lapp  capital,  are  1500  people  in  winter. 
These  people  would  give  the  most  valuable  furs, 
boots,  and  slippers  for  small  value  in  the  food  or  lux- 
uries of  foreign  pilgrims,  and,  no  doubt,  considered 
the  exchange  highly  advantageous  to  themselves. 
The  English  officers,  however,  who  were  dealing  regu- 
larly with  them  in  an  official  way,  tried  to  fix  a  fair 
rate  of  exchange  upon  a  money  basis. 

I  spent  most  of  my  time  indoors,  whe*e  my  work 
was.  Our  Y.  M.  C.  A.  was  quartered  in  a  fine  look- 
ing log  house  of  one  story,  built  high  from  the 
ground.  The  canteen  occupied  the  two  spacious 
rooms  on  front ;  here  we  permitted  to  meet  in  the 
daytime  some  of  the  classes  of  the  village  school 
driven  from  their  own  building  because  of  its  requisi- 
tion. Besides  the  two  front  rooms,  we  had  a  small 
class-  room,  and  a  kitchen,  where  we  made  the  can- 
teen drinks  and  also  held  classes,  in  a  pinch;  and 
I  had  a  comfortable  room  there,  kept  warm  by  a  large 
Russian  oven  stove,  constructed  on  the  principle  of 
preserved  heat;  a  fire  was  built  in  it  once  every  24 
hours  in  the  coldest  weather;  and  then  when  the 
fire  was  down  to  embers,  the  stove  was  closed  off  from 
the  chimney,  thus  shutting  the  heat  in  the  stove. 
The  canteen's  greatest  attraction  was  a  gramophone 
and  set  of  records,  both  far  better  than  the  average, 
which  Tom,  Dick  and  Harry  ran  to  his  own  liking; 
with  the  consequence  that  the  machine  often  went  on 
a  strike ;  fortunately,  however,  there  was  always  some 
Tom  about  to  mend  it.  At  the  canteen  counter  we 
sold  when  we  had  them,  coffee,  biscuits  (Huntley  & 


SUNLESS  KOLA  111 

Palmer's  sweet  biscuits),  soap,  soup,  candle's,  ciga- 
rettes, and  darning  cotton.  Our  supplies  were  so  lim- 
ited and  so  spasmodically  forwarded  that  we  could 
permit  no  soldier  to  purchase  at  one  time  more  than  a 
half  packet  of  biscuits,  one  packet  of  cigarettes,  or 
one  cake  of  soap.  Even  if  we  had  had  the  stock  of  a 
Wanamaker's,  we  should  have  sold  it  out  too  quickly : 
the  soldiers  had  no  other  place  to  spend  their  money. 

My  especial  part  of  the  divided  Y.  M.  C.  A.  labor 
of  the  Kola  district  was  the  direction  of  the  educa- 
tional classes  at  the  village  and  at  the  station.  The 
Russian  inhabitants  flocked  to  our  school  and  took 
what  it  offered  greedily,  but  the  soldiers  had,  after 
a  taste,  their  own  opinion  about  the  excitement  of 
learning  Russian.  The  officers  stuck  to  study  more 
resolutely,  particularly  where  the  teacher  was  a  rep- 
resentative of  Russia's  keen  young  women.  All  the 
feverish  activity  about  these  novel  classes  of  ours 
appears  to  me  now  but  an  idle  flourish.  Yet  hidden 
currents  in  the  camp  life  were  touched  by  this  educa- 
tional effervescence,  and  while  it  gave  these  currents 
no  permanent  outlet,  it  quickened  them  a  little  and 
kept  them  moving,  perhaps  to  find  a  worthy  outlet 
later  in  peace  days.  Trivial  education  is  better  than 
none  at  all.  At  least,  it  makes  for  educational  ap- 
pearances, and  these  in  turn  make  an  environment 
in  which  serious  educational  activity  may  originate. 

The  waters  of  social  life  at  Kola  were  more  deeply 
stirred.  Here  we  had  the  willing  assistance  of  those 
never-to-be-forgotten  native  young  women  —  barish- 
nas.  They  did  their  bit  at  the  officers'  parties ;  they 


112      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

came  out  in  smaller,  but  still  in  loyal,  numbers  at 
the  dances  for  soldiers.  The  York  regiment  oper- 
ated a  vaudeville  circuit  along  the  line  of  the  rail- 
road in  the  occupied  area,  and  there  was  intense  com- 
petition for  membership  in  the  party,  for  it  meant  a 
trip  down  the  line  in  the  special  concert  train  and 
relief  from  all  other  duties.  When  these  entertainers 
gave  one  of  their  performances  at  Kola,  the  Italian 
section  of  the  audience  was  so  dbptivated  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  one  of  the  performers  taking  the  part  of 
a  nurse  that  several  of  them  crowded  about  the  stage 
door  during  the  intermission  to  serenade  her. 
Every  one  was  involved  sooner  or  later  in  an  extempo- 
raneous concert ;  it  did  not  matter  what  he  did ;  only 
he  had  to  have  a  part.  The  Roman  Catholic  Padre 
borrowed  the  use  of  the  canteen  for  a  social  gather- 
ing of  his  flock  one  Sunday  afternoon,  and  it  was 
philosophically  amusing  to  see  how  bravely  each  sol- 
dier, as  he  was  called  up  in  turn,  did  his  bit ;  although 
probably  these  efforts  cost  some  of  them  as  great 
torture  as  I  knew  it  was  causing  some  of  their 
auditors. 

Special  pains  were  taken  by  the  junior  officers 
to  keep  their  seniors  entertained,  above  all,  the 
General.  Serafima  —  a  bright-eyed,  sweetly-petite 
graduate  of  the  Archangel  Gymnasium,  who  wore  an 
adorable  coat  of  soft,  reddish-brown  young  reindeer 
skin,  with  hat  to  match, —  was  engaged  to  give  the 
General  expert  advice  on  matters  pertaining  to  the 
Russian  language  (the  General  wa,s  not  the  C.  0.  who 
had  the  representative  Russian  citizen  to  lunch  in 


SUNLESS  KOLA  113 

celebration  of  the  armistice) .  Petrozavodsk  Marusa, 
a  handsome  though  pouty  girl  of  only  sixteen  such 
winters,  was  had  to  headquarters  dinner,  under  the 
chaperonage  of  her  rather  bibulous  parents  —  a 
necessary  evil;  great  use  was  found,  also,  for  Bol- 
shevik Mary,  in  spite  of  her  suspiciously  precise  Ger- 
man, for,  although  she  was  a  large  enough  woman 
to  shake  the  floor  of  some  houses  at  small  Russian 
dances,  she  possessed,  indubitably,  grace  in  her  steps, 
and,  probably,  music  in  her  soul,  with  which  to  be- 
guile his  sir-ship,  the  General,  at  the  officers'  dances. 
The  Kola  I  knew  was  socially  a  contrast  to  the 
labor-society  of  Kirkenes,  Norway.  Bolshevik-Soci- 
ety had  vanished  from  Kola  a  few  months  before  my 
arrival,  and  during  my  stay  only  Bourgeoisie-Society 
flourished,  guided  and  purified  by  the  several  leading 
families.  The  two  richest  men  in  Kola  were  mer- 
chants. The  richest,  Kukin,  had  made  his  money  in 
Norwegian  trade.  In  Czarist  days,  as  he  boasted, 
he  had  entertained  Petrograd  friends  in  his  house. 
Now  his  outstanding,  well-built  house  had  been 
requisitioned  for  headquarters,  and  Lady  Kukin  ex- 
pressed with  tears  in  her  eyes  her  rage  at  seeing  the 
damage  her  home  suffered  by  occupation  of  English 
officers.  I  felt  the  malicious  prompting  to  ask  her 
if  she  had  prospered  better  than  this  during  Bol- 
shevik days  —  if  she  hadn't  lost  use  of  her  house,  in 
large  part,  if  not  altogether.  At  Murmansk,  the 
great  lady  of  the  town  was  the  widow  of  the  admiral 
whose  sailors  had  murdered  him  in  the  harbor.  She 
mourned  her  husband  profoundly.  She  declared  to 


me  that  she  should  always,  till  her  death,  live  in  Mur- 
mansk —  the  scene  of  his  last  tragic  days  and  his 
burial  place.  She  was  indeed  a  beautiful,  accom- 
plished, and  haughty  person.  Nevertheless  financial 
embarrassments  compelled  her  to  tutor  Allied  officers 
in  languages;  and  what  a  tang  her  reluctance  must 
have  given  at  every  lesson  to  the  British  or  French 
conqueror-student ! 

Christmas  provided  an  excuse  for  heightened 
socialibity.  The  Russian  Christmas,  by  coming  ac- 
cording to  the  church  calendar  thirteen  days  after 
ours,  made  possible  a  prolonged  holiday  festivity  and 
a  thorough  exchange  of  holiday  courtesies.  We  ar- 
ranged our  big  party  for  Christmas  night.  The  hall 
chosen  for  this  gala  occasion  had  the  insalubrious 
name,  "  The  Horse  Barns,"  owing  to  the  fact  that 
French  cavalry  had  been  quartered  there  the  previ- 
ous summer.  The  circumstance,  so  a  trusty  Russian 
acquaintance  informed  me,  somewhat  handicapped  us 
at  the  start;  but  it  was  still  possible  to  make  the 
party  a  success,  he  said,  by  a  judicious  issue  of  the 
invitations ;  if,  however,  one  of  the  village  families 
not  considered  "  nice  "  were  invited,  the  "  nice  "  peo- 
ple would  hear  of  it  and  not  come.  One  further 
caution :  if  the  Russians  saw  so  much  as  one  of  their 
hosts  beginning  to  be  drunk,  they  would  immediately 
be  escorting  their  daughters  to  the  coat  room.  Con- 
sequently, on  Christmas  evening  our  committee  were 
waiting  in  the  festooned  "  Horse  Barns  "  very  nerv- 
ously for  the  first  guests.  These  appeared,  finally, 
with  disarming  smiles,  Captain  Helmholtz  and  his 


SUNLESS  KOLA  115 

wife,  German-Russian  refugees  from  Riga  —  our 
principal  guests.  At  that  moment  a  group  of  three 
or  four  Tommies  who  had  not  refused  their  Christmas 
rum  ration,  nor  any  of  the  liquor  extras  for  the  day, 
spontaneously  decided  to  dance  a  jig  noisily  in  a 
corner  lighted  with  a  large  festive  candelabrum. 
They  executed  their  decision  instantly.  Swiftly,  as 
if  on  wings,  Lieutenant  Bull  of  the  Committee  moved 
across  the  hall  and  quieted  this  inopportune,  and,  as 
it  turned  out,  this  isolated,  case  of  super-abundance 
of  spirits;  but,  too  late!  Captain  Helmholtz  and 
family  had  vanished.  Worse  luck,  they  met  other 
members  of  the  gentry  just  outside  and  gave  them 
reason  for  retracing  their  steps.  Then,  rather  than 
let  our  whole  party  go  by  default,  we  admitted  some 
of  the  villagers  not  so  "  nice  "  who  were  loitering 
shamelessly  about  the  building. 

The  Russians  began  their  "  Rojestvo  "  at  three 
A.  M.  with  the  ringing  of  the  church  bells  and  a 
service.  I  en j  oy ed  the  bells  only  —  in  bed !  I  was 
awakened  a  few  hours  later  by  a  peculiar  sound  that 
seemed  at  first  like  the  music  of  bag-pipes.  It  was 
Christmas  music  sung  by  several  children  in  the 
rooms  of  my  landlord.  They  soon  came  into  my 
room,  faced  my  icon,  an  image  such  as  all  good 
Russians  hang  high  up  in  a  corner  of  every  room, 
and  sang,  bowing  to  the  icon,  and  twirling  a  little 
wheel,  made  to  represent  the  Star  of  the  East,  and 
decorated  with  bright  bands  of  paper  and  pictures 
of  the  old  Emperor  and  Empress.  Later  in  the 
morning  I  called  on  some  of  the  villagers.  I  found 


116      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

them  all  dressed  in  their  best  clothes,  abjuring  all 
work  whatsoever,  and  entertaining  their  kinsfolk 
and  friends  around  the  tea  table.  Their  cakes,  of 
many  kinds,  were  made  from  sugar  saved  from  ra- 
tions over  a  long  period,  and,  in  the  houses  of  the 
rich,  of  sugar  bought  privately  from  Allied  sources. 
Their  Christmas  was  not  done  up  in  any  hurry. 
There  were  the  first,  the  second,  the  third,  the  fourth 
days  —  clear,  unadulterated  holidays !  On  the  third 
day,  the  day  after  Christmas,  came  the  big  fete  for 
the  children  of  the  village,  held  that  year  in  the  large 
hall  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  building  at  Kola  Station;  in 
the  evening  was  a  spectacle  (Russian  play),  and  from 
midnight  to  seven  in  the  morning  was  a  grand  ball. 
All  the  dances  at  this  time  of  the  year  are  mas- 
querades. A  dozen  or  two  masked  friends  will  call 
on  you  at  any  hour  of  the  night  and  request  the 
pleasure  of  dancing  in  your  house.  They  resemble 
bears,  donkeys,  fish,  brigands  and  cut-throats.  You 
ask  if  they  are  good  people.  They  reply  they  are. 
They  dance  violently  and  recklessly  —  as  the  crea- 
tures they  resemble  might  disport  themselves ;  you 
give  them  to  eat  and  to  drink;  they  move  on  to  an- 
other house.  The  tree  (Yolka)  is  the  important 
thing  for  grown-ups  as  well  as  for  children.  I  saw 
several  men  bringing  their  tree  from  the  hillside  on 
the  First  Day  of  Christmas.  This  same  day  they 
also  decorate  it.  On  the  following  day,  after  the 
Christmas  morning  service,  they  light  it  with  the  tiny 
church  candles  they  have  brought  home  with  them. 
It  remains  by  law  for  two  weeks;  the  children  pray 


SUNLESS  KOLA  117 

clamorously  to  have  it  remain  longer,  and  to  the  joy 
of  all  it  remains  another  week. 

So  Christmas  is  over,  the  big  holiday  of  the  year; 
and  none  too  important  in  sunless  Kola,  as  a  means 
of  keeping  the  children  and  the  grown-ups  happy  in 
the  dark  winter  months.  Everybody  seemed  sorry 
to  have  Christmas  all  over;  there  came  no  sigh  of 
relief  to  these  folks  at  the  end  of  their  holiday 
engagements,  as  comes  to  us  who  plan  Christmas 
more  ambitiously.  Their  efforts  for  Christmas  are 
natural;  they  take  time  to  enjoy  their  Christmas. 
The  Allied  military  control  would  not  allow  the 
Russians  working  for  them  to  take  off  their  usual 
number  of  days  to  celebrate  on;  thus  was  the  cor- 
ruption of  civilization  felt  that  Christmas  at  Kola. 
But  the  chief  Christmas  customs  of  the  people  were 
observed  in  spite  of  the  presence  of  a  higher  civil- 
ization. I  doubt  if  any  Czar  or  any  Lenin  could 
suddenly  obliterate  these.  Next  Christmas  may  be 
a  Bolshevik  Christmas  in  Kola,  but  it  will  differ 
little  from  the  one  I  saw  there.  Such  holiday  cus- 
toms of  the  people  will  prevail,  pretty  much  un- 
changed, for  some  time  to  come,  whoever  makes  the 
decrees  at  Moscow.  A  month  after  Christmas  will 
come  a  week  when  all  feast  and  eat  bleenies  (griddle 
cakes).  Then  will  come  Lent,  when  all  religious 
Russians  fast  rigidly.  There  will  come  in  its  turn 
the  Day  of  the  Baptism  when  the  priest,  followed  by 
the  whole  village,  will  take  the  chief  icon  of  the 
church  along  a  path  marked  by  cut  fir  trees,  to  the 
river,  and  here,  under  a  canopy  specially  erected, 


118      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  priest  will  dip  the  icon  through  a  hole  that  has 
been  cut  in  the  ice,  into  the  running  water  —  all  as 
a  symbol  of  renewing  life,  of  the  perennial  washing 
away  of  the  old. 

So  every  year  Russia  shakes  off  her  old  sins,  and, 
in  hope,  in  freshness,  looks  to  the  future.  Habits 
of  faith  in  the  Russian  people  like  this  one  will  never 
be  rooted  out.  Russia  will  be  clean  some  day.  And 
then  may  she  help  some  of  the  other  people  who  cling 
more  fondly  to  their  past,  and  consequently  have 
less  faith  in  their  power  to  renew  themselves. 


JOHN  BULL  IN  NORTH  RUSSIA 

Arctic  Russia  was  a  strange  country  for  twenty 
thousand  or  more  English.soldiers  to  be  set  down  in ; 
but  it  was  only  a  short  time  before  they  had  made 
the  place  theirs.  Too  lazy  to  learn  Russian,  they 
made  themselves  understood  with  interpreters.  To 
lend  dignity  to  this  indirect  communication  the  in- 
terpreters were  made  sergeants.  I  knew  three  pri- 
vates who  obtained  stripes  in  this  way.  I  saw  half  a 
village  evacuated  for  troops,  and  to  increase  the 
accommodations,  rows  of  wooden  shacks  with  walls 
of  two  thicknesses  filled  with  dirt,  hastily  built. 
Stoves  were  brought  in,  bunks  built.  Orders  were 
issued  to  keep  everything  and  everybody  sanitary. 
So  many  men  were  detached  for  the  fuel  service,  so 
many  for  the  water  service.  My  Y.  M.  C.  A.  hut 
in  Kola  village  was  furnished  promptly  with  wood 
and  water  as  one  of  the  army  institutions.  The 
water-man's  sled  covered  with  ice  rapidly  forming 
as  the  water  spilled  over  the  side  of  the  barrel,  came 
creaking  to  our  back  door  about  nine  in  the  morning. 

The  officers  were  a  cheerful  lot  of  fellows,  all  fit. 
As  soon  as  they  arrived  in  the  place,  they  were  think- 
ing of  shooting  and  skiing.  There  wasn't  much 
game  in  our  immediate  vicinity,  but  officers  coming 
new  to  the  place  would  go  out  with  their  guns  some 

119 


120      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

morning  to  make  sure  of  this  fact.  Skiing  remained 
excellent  all  winter.  Little  snow  fell,  but  this  never 
melted  once  till  April.  Although  two  hundred  miles 
within  the  Arctic  Circle,  thanks  to  the  influence  of 
the  Gulf  Stream,  the  average  temperature,  Fahren- 
heit, was  above  zero,  and  Kola  Bay  always  lay  before 
us  as  an  unfrozen  feature  of  the  place.  The  officers 
often  went  back  and  forth  on  skis  between  Kola 
Station  and  the  village,  army  headquarters.  They 
wore  sweaters  under  their  tunics,  a  long  woolen  scarf, 
a  handsome  fur  hat,  but  generally  no  overcoat. 
Their  buttons,  belt,  and  boots  glistened.  They 
should  have  impressed  the  population.  They  did 
outclass  the  Italian  officers  who  in  appearance  are 
not  easy  to  distinguish  from  their  soldiers. 

The  chief  task  of  the  officers,  up  there  500  miles 
from  the  front,  was  to  look  after  their  men.  This 
they  did  well,  for  the  most  part.  They  were  solicit- 
ous, too,  that  Tommy  should  have  his  entertainment ; 
otherwise  he  might  become  discontented.  At  first 
some  C.  O.'s  were  lukewarm,  if  not  hostile,  to  the 
efforts  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  but  in  time  the  sort  of 
service  rendered  by  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  came  to  be 
appreciated;  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  a  welfare  offi- 
cer was  appointed  for  the  district  and  attached  to 
the  general  staff. 

The  evenings  were  long,  especially  so  to  the  officers, 
who  did  not  have  to  rise  early.  In  midwinter  lamps 
were  lighted  from  three  to  four  o'clock.  Tea  came 
at  four-thirty ;  a  good  dinner,  with  abundant  liquor, 
at  seven-thirty,  prepared  by  tested  soldier-cooks. 


JOHN  BULL  IN  NORTH  RUSSIA      121 

The  officer  messes  could  procure  certain  extras  from 
the  Army  Service  Corps  such  as  plum  pudding, 
canned  vegetables  and  fruits.  After  dinner  was  a 
game  of  cards  or  conversation  enlivened  with  a  gram- 
ophone. The  choice  of  the  evening's  diversion  lay 
with  the  C.  O.  (commanding  officer).  If  he  wished 
to  play  bridge,  bridge  it  was ;  if  he  preferred  to  go 
out  skiing  in  view  of  the  northern  lights  or  the  north- 
ern moonlight,  with  the  Russian  women,  his  officers 
must  accompany  him. 

Occasionally  there  was  a  dance  for  officers  at 
Kola  Station  in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.'s  huge  building, 
erected  by  aid  of  the  soldiers,  and  kept  warm  by 
eight  brick  ovens.  At  first  these  dances  were  held 
on  Sunday  evening,  following  the  Russian  customs, 
but  when  the  Yorks  came  into  camp,  their  chaplain 
put  his  foot  down  and  declared  the  Russians  should 
observe  Sunday  in  our  way,  not  we  in  theirs.  The 
Italians  outshone  the  English  in  dancing;  they 
danced  with  each  other  if  there  were  not  girls  enough 
to  go  round;  few  of  the  English  danced.  The  most 
memorable  of  these  affairs  was  the  masquerade  party 
after  the  Russian  Christmas  celebrations  were  over, 
when  the  inhabitants  appeared  in  clever  disguises 

and  in  their  merriest  mood.     Captain  P was  so 

enthralled  by  one  of  the  disguised  fair  ones  that  he 
took  her  to  his  shack  between  dances  and  offered  her 
chocolate,  the  greatest  luxury  to  the  Russian  ladies. 
But  when  he  gallantly  tried  to  kiss  her,  she  unmasked 
and  showed  herself  a  soft-voiced  boy  of  nineteen. 

These  Englishmen  talked  chiefly  about  their  war 


122      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

experiences  in  France.  They  were  not  particularly 
concerned  to  know  why  the  government  was  keeping 
them  in  Russia  after  the  armistice.  One  officer,  irri- 
tated at  the  time  upon  receiving  news  that  his 
battalion  should  move  on  as  reinforcements  to  Arch- 
angel, exclaimed :  "  This  expedition  is  nothing  but  a 
capitalists'  scheme  to  get  a  hand  on  the  mines  of 
Russia  "  (as  it  happens  there  are  rich  mineral  de- 
posits all  untouched  in  the  hills  around  Murmansk). 
This  remark  came  more  or  less  off  the  top  of  the 
brain,  but  the  following  remark  of  another  officer 
was  well  considered :  "  Of  course  I  know  very  well 
what  we  are  here  for.  I,  as  an  English  officer,  am 
here  in  the  interest  of  England,  in  the  interest  of 
England's  prosperity.  For  I  am  a  regular-army 
man:  we  cannot  have  an  army  without  money,  and 
we  as  a  nation  cannot  have  money  without  an  army 
to  fight  for  it."  "  But,"  I  asked,  "  do  you  believe 
the  Italians  and  French  are  here  also  in  the  financial 
interest  of  their  countries?"  "Certainly,"  he  re- 
sponded. "  And  how  about  the  Americans  ?  "  I  put 
the  question ;  "  don't  you  believe  in  the  sincerity  of 
Wilson  with  his  fourteen  points  ?  "  "  Very  likely 
he  is  sincere,"  replied  the  officer ;  "  perhaps  our 
Lloyd-George  is  sincere  also,  but,  when  all  is  said, 
we  know  our  politicians  are  only  the  tools  of  our 
business  men,  the  real  rulers."  There  was  no  beat- 
ing about  the  bush  with  this  man,  no  phrase-making. 
He,  like  many  others,  believed  that  the  way  to  settle 
the  Russian  question  was  by  force. 

They  considered  the  Russian  too  weak  to  decide 


JOHN  BULL  IN  NORTH  RUSSIA      123 

his  own  destinies.  This  notion  that  certain  people 
are  born  without  capacity  for  self-government  is  not 
a  stock  idea  of  English  military  men  alone.  Mr. 
Dillon,  a  well-known  English  writer  about  Russia, 
has  written  a  book  of  TOO  pages  to  prove  that  the 
Russian  is  not  fit  for  self-government.  I  had  this 
Mr.  Dillon  quoted  to  me.  He  was  a  convenient 
authority  at  the  moment.  Convenient  authorities 
have  been  found  to  prove  the  Irish,  the  Indians,  the 
Egyptians  unfit  for  self-government. 

They  told  me  the  Russian  was  no  fighter,  that  that 
fact  was  made  clear  in  the  war.  They  told  me  the 
Italians  were  cowards.  They  reported  that  one  of 
the  American  regiments  at  Archangel  was  below  par 
because  made  up  of  Detroit  immigrants,  and  that 
for  this  reason  the  English  at  Murmansk  were 
obliged  to  send  over  reinforcements  to  Archangel. 

There  were  four  thousand  Italians  at  the  Kola 
camp  under  a  major  of  their  own,  but  subject  to 
suggestions  of  the  English  C.  O.  Only  one  English 
C.  O.  was  ever  really  successful  in  maintaining  the 
entente  corcKale  with  them.  His  secret  as  told  to  one 
of  his  subalterns  was  this :  "  I  find  it  best  to  give 
way  in  all  small  matters,  and  in  any  important  mat- 
ter the  Italians  will  be  rather  happy  than  not  in  see- 
ing my  way  of  looking  at  it." 

Tommy  rose  above  his  environment  almost  as 
heartily  and  as  irrepressibly  as  his  officer.  The 
soldiers  were  getting  enough  to  eat  that  winter, 
though  they  told  me  that  the  previous  summer  they 
were  working  hard  on  less  than  half  rations.  The 


124      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

British  army  rations  were  uniformly  good.  The 
cereal,  bacon,  jam  and  cheese  were  never  an  inferior 
article.  By  Christmas,  all  the  winter  clothing  for 
the  troops  had  arrived.  Their  high  white  hats  faced 
with  black  fur  were  imposing.  Every  soldier  was 
required  to  wear  the  Shackleton  arctic  boots,  but 
the  warmest  foot-wear  for  that  climate  to  my  think- 
ing were  valenkis,  the  felt  boots  worn  by  the  inhabit- 
ants. Tommy  had  almost  as  little  use  for  the  Rus- 
sian as  his  officer.  His  chief  relation  to  the  natives 
was  to  "  skolko,"  the  Russian  term  meaning  "  how 
much."  In  the  beginning  a  brisk  trade  sprang  up  in 
cigarettes  and  rum,  the  Russians'  supply  of  these 
articles  being  just  what  they  could  obtain  from  the 
army.  The  evil  increased  till  made  the  subject  of  an 
army  order  threatening  "  skolkoers  "  with  loss  of 
leave  to  England  (there  had  been  no  leave  up  to  that 
time). 

The  men  were  thinking  of  England  much  more 
than  of  Russia.  Mail  day  was  the  big  day;  then 
there  was  something  more  pleasant  than  routine  to 
think  about.  Everybody  wanted  to  go  home.  For 
this  reason,  and  for  any  other  imaginable,  as  always 
where  John  Bull  plants  himself,  the  men  groused 
(i.  e.,  complained)  and  groused,  using  the  same 
idioms  for  this  purpose  that  I  heard  at  the  officer 
messes.  Their  complaints  were  generally  criticisms 
of  administrative  acts  that  directly  concerned  them; 
they  seldom  showed  any  interest  in  war  causes  and 
results,  and  very  little  interest  in  the  progress  of 
the  peace-treaty;  Editor  Bottomly's  anecdotal  in- 


JOHN  BULL  IN  NORTH  RUSSIA      125 

terpretation  of  current  events  satisfied  them.  Now 
and  again  one  would  hear  a  soldier  remark  succinctly 
and  conclusively  that  when  Russia  paid  over  her  debt 
to  Great  Britain,  then  they  would  be  jolly  well  glad 
to  leave  that  damned  country.  Stories  of  Bolshevik 
atrocities  were  readily  credited.  That  Pandora  tale 
of  the  nationalization  of  women,  which  was  going 
the  rounds  of  America  and  Europe,  was  doing  duty 
up  there  also,  being  printed  and  distributed  among 
all  the  soldiers.  Other  propaganda  stuff  was  put 
before  them.  In  among  magazines  sent  out  to  the 
troops  just  about  election  time  were  hundreds  of 
leaflets  of  The  National  Democratic  Labor  Party, 
lauding  the  government.  One  heard  little  of  any 
cry  "  On  to  Petrograd !  "  there  was  no  genuine  desire 
to  fight  the  Bolsheviks.  The  remark  was  current 
that  it  would  be  a  shame  to  lose  one's  life  fighting 
the  miserable  Bolsheviks,  after  getting  out  of  the 
Great  War  safely. 


WHAT  THE  ALLIES  ACCOMPLISHED 
IN  NORTH  RUSSIA 

It  was  a  blind  alley  the  expedition  to  North  Russia 
led  into  !  The  soldiers  felt  that  they  had  been  shoved 
off  civilization  upon  this  cold  and  dark  end  of  the 
universe  and  forgotten.  And  some  of  the  officers 
felt  that  all  their  efforts  were  certain  to  be  frus- 
trated. We  in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  were  busy  dissem- 
inating good  cheer  at  canteen  counters  and  on  en- 
tertainment stages,  but  in  the  course  of  it  all  there 
was  for  us  as  detached  and  somewhat  independent 
persons,  perhaps  an  exceptional  opportunity  of  talk- 
ing straight  and  honestly  with  different  ranks,  with 
representatives  of  the  different  Allied  corps,  and  — 
for  those  of  us  who  spoke  mutilated  Russian  —  with 
the  military  and  civilian  Russians. 

It  was  natural  for  members  of  the  expedition  to 
wonder  about  the  reasons  of  the  Supreme  Council  of 
Ten  in  keeping  them  in  Russia  after  the  armistice. 
Some  thought  they  were  there  to  ensure  payment  of 
Russia's  debts  to  England  and  France.  Others, 
especially  officers,  frankly  concluded  that  it  was  to 
restore  "  order  "  to  "  distracted  "  Russia. 

The  Allies  landed  at  Murmansk  on  the  invitation 
of  the  local  Soviet.  This  silly  Soviet  was  forth- 
with excommunicated  by  the  Moscow  All-Russian 

Soviet,  and,  shortly  after,  was  shown  the  door  by  its 

126 


WHAT  THE  ALLIES  ACCOMPLISHED      127 

whilom  guests.  At  Archangel,  according  to  the  tes- 
timony of  Mr.  Young,  formerly  British  Consul  there, 
the  invitation  to  land  was  obtained  after  the  Allies 
had  taken  the  place  and  nominated  a  provisional 
government  that  should  invite  them.  Then  this 
complaisant  body  also  quickly  learned  its  standing 
by  being  kidnapped  by  some  Russian  militia  and 
taken  to  an  island  in  the  White  Sea,  with  the  con- 
nivance, it  was  rumored,  of  certain  elements  of  the 
Allied  High  Command.  The  American  Ambassador 
forced  the  return  of  this  government,  but  the  work- 
men of  Archangel  went  on  a  strike  as  a  protest 
against  the  abduction.  American  soldiers  helped  to 
put  down  this  strike,  and  all  subsequent  strikes,  of 
which  there  were  many. 

The  Americans  at  Archangel  had  to  do  'many 
things  which  they  considered  absolutely  antithetical 
to  the  spirit  in  which  they  were  supposed  to  have 
come  into  Russia.  Frazer  Hunt,  who  visited  this 
front  as  correspondent  of  The  Chicago  Tribune, 
wrote  that  this  was  because  the  Americans  were  under 
British  command.  Even  the  Bolsheviki  knew  that 
the  Americans  had  a  different  attitude  toward  the 
Russians  from  the  British.  A  dough-boy  who  had 
spent  the  winter  at  Archangel  told  me  that  the  Bol- 
sheviks would  often  refrain  from  attacking  the 
Yanks,  for  some  such  reason.  Once,  he  related, 
when  the  English  relieved  Americans  from  a  post  held 
by  the  latter  for  several  weeks,  during  which  the 
Bolsheviks  had  not  fired  a  shot,  the  Reds  made  a 
strong  attack  that  very  night. 


128      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

At  first  there  was  considerable  friction  in  the  Mur- 
mansk district  between  the  British  command  and  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.,  which  was  then  directed  by  Americans. 
The  American  workers  were  accused  of  spreading 
American  propaganda.  The  object  of  our  relief 
and  educational  work  for  the  Russian  population  was 
misconstrued.  One  British  officer  losing  his  temper 
exclaimed  to  one  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  officials :  "  Well, 
perhaps  consciously  you  are  not  doing  any  propa- 
ganda work,  but  just  the  same  your  government  is 
using  you  as  its  agents."  This  incident  is  one  illus- 
tration of  the  sensitiveness  of  the  "  army  mind  "  to 
propaganda.  Several  such  incidents  impressed  it 
upon  me  that  the  British  army  man  in  this  war  recog- 
nized the  power  and  value  of  ideas  and  motives.  The 
friction  between  the  Italian  and  English  officers  was 
marked  also;  their  mutual  distrust  and  dislike  was 
general.  These  international  jealousies  were  silly, 
and  sound  doubly  so  in  print  several  thousand  miles 
away,  months  later,  but  they,  nevertheless,  were  un- 
deniably a  vital  factor  in  the  lives  of  the  troops  and 
in  the  effectiveness  of  the  expedition. 

The  Bolshevik  Finns  who  had  escaped  out  of  Fin- 
land with  the  German  White  Guard  at  their  heels 
and  had  taken  refuge  with  the  Allied  troops  in  the 
Murmansk  district,  presented  a  dilemma.  They 
were  promised  when  they  came  that  the  Allies  would 
help  them  drive  the  Germans  out  of  Finland.  But 
when  after  the  armistice  the  Allies  supported  the 
same  White  Finns  that  had  called  in  German  aid  to 
put  down  the  Finnish^  working  people,  explanation 


WHAT  THE  ALLIES  ACCOMPLISHED      129 

to  our  Finnish  Legion  was  awkward.  The  Finns 
went  on  a  strike  in  March,  intending  to  go  back  to 
Finland.  General  Maynard  informed  them  that  in 
order  to  avoid  bloodshed  he  would  not  oppose  their 
departure,  but  that  any  individuals  found  returning 
would  be  treated  as  deserters.  After  this  the  matter 
was  patched  up  for  the  time. 

But  the  friction  that  counted  most  was  the  grow- 
ing hostility  of  the  Russian  soldiers  and  the  Russian 
people  to  the  expedition.  The  out-and-out  Bol- 
sheviks were  put  under  arrest  at  once.  I  came  to 
know  the  officer  given  charge  of  them.  He  explained 
that  they  were  maintained  as  a  gang  of  workmen- 
prisoners  to  do  the  hardest  labor  on  the  Murmansk 
quay.  If  they  failed  to  carry  out  any  orders,  they 
were  lashed.  An  Allied  soldier  went  beside  each 
prisoner  and  saw  to  it  that  he  "  worked."  Learning 
all  this  I  ventured  a  suggestion  to  the  officer.  "  Such 
a  waste  of  time  for  the  guards ;  why  couldn't  the  sol- 
diers work  with  the  prisoners?  "  He  promptly  re- 
turned :  "  Gad,  the  Tommy  wouldn't  do  that  heavy 
work ;  they  come  out  here  as  soldiers,  not  as  a  labor- 
battalion." 

Russians  who  were  objectionable  to  the  military 
were  likely  to  be  dubbed  Bolshevik.  A  British  officer 

described  how  two  Russians  at  K suffered  from 

this  practice  and  his  story  was  later  corroborated  by 

our  Y.  M.  C.  A.  representative  at  K .  The 

army  owed  both  these  Russians  large  sums  on  lumber 
contracts  and  apparently  for  no  other  reason  they 
found  themselves  accused  of  being  Bolsheviks.  It 


130      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

was  made  so  hot  for  one  of  them  that  he  had  to 
leave  town  without  collecting  his  debt. 

General  Maynard  hated  the  sight  of  a  "  damned 
Russian  "  and  would  not  have  one  in  his  office  if  he 
could  help  it.  This  was  the  attitude  of  some  of  the 
best  officers.  Generally  the  natives  were  treated  by 
the  British  officers  as  inferiors,  although  in  some 
quarters  there  were  attempts  made  to  please  the 
populace.  Many  of  those  who  disliked  the  Russian 
were  happy  enough  to  dance  with  his  daughters; 
moreover,  they  were  quite  put  out  if  the  Russian 
notabilities  declined  to  come  to  the  officer  soirees, 
as  was  sometimes  the  case.  I  heard  often  an  observa- 
tion, common  under  such  circumstances,  that  "  the 
Russian  women  are  so  much  finer  than  the  Russian 
men,  you  know ! "  In  one  village  it  was  definitely 
one  of  the  duties  of  the  interpreter,  an  English  ser- 
geant, to  call  upon  the  families  in  a  cheerful,  friendly 
way;  at  headquarters'  mess  they  used  to  joke  about 
this  diplomatic  offensive,  but  I  doubt  if  many 
Russians  were  taken  in  by  it.  The  Italians  and  the 
French  mixed  more  readily  with  the  population  than 
the  English,  and  picked  up  quite  a  smattering  of  the 
language. 

Once  there  in  the  country  that  great  illusion  re- 
garding Russia  that  the  people  were  waiting  to  be 
delivered  and  would  flock  by  the  thousands  to  our 
standard,  was  quickly  dissipated.  The  officers  and 
N.  C.  O.'s  who  were  sent  out  purposely  to  train 
Russian  recruits  had  to  be  assigned  to  other  tasks: 
the  local  population  in  no  sense  ever  rallied  to  us. 


WHAT  THE  ALLIES  ACCOMPLISHED      131 

When  this  fact  was  realized,  it  was  decided  to  mob- 
ilize the  Russian  men  of  the  district.  Of  the  con- 
scripts I  knew,  some  Bolsheviks  and  some  non-Bol- 
sheviks intended  to  walk  over  to  the  enemy  whenever 
the  chance  offered.  Accordingly,  the  revolt  of  Rus- 
sians at  Onega  the  following  summer  was  not  a  sur- 
prise to  me.  Americans  who  were  at  Archangel  till 
mid-summer  declared  a  majority  of  the  Russian 
troops  had  gone  over  to  the  Red  Army. 

Over  at  Murmansk  I  heard  often  of  the  Bolshevik 
atrocities  at  Archangel,  but  the  men  from  there  I 
asked  about  atrocities  were  pretty  unanimous  in 
denying  that  they  existed.  A  prosperous  merchant 
at  Kola  with  whom  I  dined  occasionally  averred  that 
the  only  way  to  settle  Russia  was  to  kill  every  Bol- 
shevik. "  Every  Bolshevik? "  I  expostulated. 
"  Every  Bolshevik ! "  was  his  firm  answer.  There 
was  atrocity  in  this  man's  mind,  but  I  don't  believe 
he  would  actually  commit  one. 

A  few  people  like  this  merchant,  who  were  pros- 
pering during  the  foreign  occupation,  feared  what 
might  happen  to  them  and  their  property  if  the  for- 
eign armies  were  withdrawn,  but  many  Russian  mod- 
erates were  by  degrees  losing  confidence  in  the  Allies 
there  as  they  saw  them  taking  counsel  chiefly  with  the 
reactionary  elements  of  the  population.  One  prom- 
inent citizen  at  Murmansk  who  had  been  delighted  to 
see  the  Allies  land  confided  to  a  friend  of  mine  that 
since  he  had  seen  how  the  Allies  treated  the  Russians, 
he  doubted  if  there  was  much  to  choose  between  them 
and  the  Bolsheviks.  And  yet  this  fellow,  belonging 


132      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

to    another   Russian   party,    hated   the    Bolsheviks 
cordially. 

As  for  the  Bolsheviks  themselves,  they  kept  quiet. 
And  for  some  reason  I  could  not  get  bourgeois  Rus- 
sians to  tell  me  who  the  Bolsheviks  of  the  village  were. 
Ultimately,  however,  two  good  acquaintances  who 
held  positions  of  trust  in  the  village,  acknowledged 
themselves  to  me  bona  fide  Bolsheviks. 


HONEY  LOU 

AN  IMAGINARY  ADVENTURE  AMONG 
THE  LAPPS 

"  Through  the  wilds  of  Lapland  in  a  snow-dipping 
caryosa,"  is  the  way  Major  M ,  Evangelist,  be- 
gan his  story  of  a  drive  to  a  Lapp  village.  The 
country  had  no  striking  effect  of  wilderness  upon  me 
and  I  didn't  ride  in  a  caryosa;  I  was  driven  in  a 
roughly  but  strongly  constructed  sled  already  loaded 
with  a  month's  rations  for  the  driver.  My  driver 
apologized  for  his  team  of  four  reindeer  even  before  I 
saw  it:  they  were  too  old.  He  had  thirty  reindeer, 
all  but  these  four  too  young  to  carry  a  sled :  he  was 
a  poor  Lapp.  There  are  Lapps  with  several  thou- 
sand reindeer;  these  fellows  are  not  only  rich  Lapps, 
they  are  rich  men;  a  reindeer  this  winter  (1918—19) 
is  worth  90  dollars.  My  young  driver  had  just  re- 
turned from  fighting  in  Roumania  a  year  before  and 
he  proceeded  to  tell  me  a  little  about  it  as  we  slipped 
on  through  the  falling  snow  (I  cannot  say  "  dashed, 
raced  or  hurtled  through  the  earth's  new  white 
blanket"  as  would  the  Major;  for  it  was  hard  go- 
ing: a  warm  day,  new  snow  and  wet  snow).  We  had 
to  jump  off  and  walk  at  each  incline  and  we  made 
several  stops  to  let  the  reindeer  breathe  and  the 

driver  smoke. 

133 


SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

Our  journey  was  across  a  wide  plateau  between 
two  river-valleys,  from  the  Russian  town  of  Kola  to 
the  Lapp  village  of  Kildensky  Pagost.  The  driver 
prodded  his  deer  constantly  with  a  fifteen-foot  pole 
and  sometimes  ran  up  behind  and  shouted  at  them. 
That  kept  them  moving.  We  went  down  all  hills  at 
top  speed,  skirting  rocks  and  bushes ;  I  kept  myself 
on  the  sled  only  by  being  braced;  at  such  times  the 
driver  sang  out  something  like 

"  Mookie    bearlie,    sarkar,    chai, 
Mookie  bearlie,  sarkar,  chai, 
Mookie  bearlie " 

a  soldiers'  song,  he  said.  Finally  we  had  the  second 
valley  in  view  across  a  lake.  "*  How  do  you  get 
around  this  lake  in  summer?  "  I  asked.  "  We  don't 
live  here  in  summer,"  he  replied.  "  We  fish  on  the 
inlet  near  Murmansk  in  summer.  I  don't,  myself;  I 
tend  reindeer  on  the  tundras  twenty  versts  to  the  east 
of  here,  where  they  feed." 

Upon  our  arrival  at  the  village,  all  the  shaggy 
wolf-dogs  came  out  and  yelped  ill-manneredly  at  me 
as  the  driver  took  me  to  the  higgledy-piggledy  house 
where  I  was  to  stay  for  the  night.  In  the  corner  of 
the  first  room  was  an  open  fireplace  where  metre- 
sticks  of  wood  standing  on  end,  blazed  cheerily. 
Through  the  window  I  could  see  similar  blazes  in 
neighboring  huts  or  houses ;  I  could  see  also  brawny 
women  chopping  wood  out-of-doors  at  the  wood-pile. 
Except  for  this  open  fire  everything  in  the  place  was 


HONEY  LOU  135 

dingy  and  uninviting;  not  nearly  so  homelike  as  the 
interior  of  Russian  cottages.  In  this  first  room  lived 
a  consumptive  Lapp  and  his  wife.  The  second  room, 
reached  only  through  the  first,  was  fully  occupied  by 
two  and  a  half  families.  A  large  oven  stood  in  one 
corner;  in  two  corners  were  wide  curtain  beds.  I 
put  down  my  bag  and  bed-roll  in  the  remaining  cor- 
ner, where  there  was  a  wooden  wall-seat  and  the  din- 
ing-table.  The  evening  meal  followed  immediately. 
The  Lapps  had  their  songa  (fish),  plenty  of  bread, 
and  tea  made  with  boiling  water  from  an  unburnished 
samovar  (you  do  not  find  unpolished  samovars  in 
well-regulated  Russian  households!).  My  host  and 
hostess  accepted  without  a  murmur  of  my  jam  and 
biscuits,  and,  although  it  was  the  first  week  of  the 
long  fast  before  Easter,  the  host  made  good  inroads 
into  my  bully-beef ;  scarcely  any  of  my  offerings  were 
passed  on  by  man  and  wife  to  the  subordinate  mem- 
bers of  the  household. 

The  subordinate  members  of  the  household  were, 
as  I  learned  by  asking,  a  small  adopted  daughter, 
the  sister-in-law  and  her  husband  of  two  weeks,  and 
another  sister-in-law.  This  unmarried  sister-in-law, 
Anna,  spoke  Russian  excellently  and  had  that  native 
refinement  which  always  accompanies  generous  high 
spirits.  I  say  she  had  high  spirits.  She  did  not 
display  them  particularly  as  I  saw  her,  but  never- 
theless I  know  she  had  them,  although  at  the  time 
she  seemed  not  to  enjoy  her  good  health,  was  very 
pale.  I  felt  her  looking  sharply  at  me  at  times,  as 
if  the  way  I  acted  and  talked  struck  a  deep  chord  in 


136      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

her.  She  said  little  during  tea.  The  young  hus- 
band talked  most.  He  wanted  to  tell  me  he  had  been 
in  the  big  cities  of  Russia,  in  Moscow  and  Petrograd 
—  had  stopped  over  three  days  in  Moscow  when  re- 
turning from  his  service  in  the  army :  it  was  a  beau- 
tiful city,  the  women  there  were  attractive;  his  wife 
did  not  relish  this  last  remark.  "  And  there  is  no 
such  frost  and  winter  there !  "  I  said.  "  Shouldn't 
you  rather  spend  the  winter  in  Moscow  than  here?  " 
There  was  no  hesitation  in  his  reply,  no  weighing  of 
pros  and  cons:  "I  should  enjoy  winter  here,  most. 
I  am  used  to  this  winter ;  I  like  it."  "  Better  than 
summer,  here?"  I  asked  again.  "Yes,  I  like  our 
winter  better  than  our  summer ! " 

After  tea  the  hozian  (master  of  the  house)  de- 
parted to  spend  the  night  several  miles  off  where  his 
reindeer  were  herded.  The  three  sisters  began  at 
once  to  sew  skins  industriously.  Out  of  small  pieces 
of  fur  they  were  making  the  handsome  high  boots 
that  sold  in  Murmansk  for  40  dollars  a  pair.  The 
fur  was  matched  very  carefully  and  cut  clean  for 
the  seam ;  they  used  strong  thread,  drawn  off  from 
one  of  four  large  skeins  hanging  on  a  rod  over  the 
oven.  The  young  husband  sat  very  close  to  his 
wife,  and  now  and  again  they  whispered  to  each 
other  in  the  Lapp  language.  Anna  observed  them 
each  time  they  whispered  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye, 
just  as  I  was  doing. 

As  I  had  come  into  the  village  I  was  wishing  I  had 
brought  with  me  a  gramophone  the  better  to  enter- 
tain both  the  Lapps  and  myself  during  the  evening. 


HONEY  LOU  137 

Imagine  my  surprise  and  delight  to  notice,  on  reach- 
ing to  the  floor  to  pick  up  a  scrap  of  skin  that  had 
dropped  from  Anna's  lap,  a  gramophone  and  some 
records  resting  on  a  small  shelf  built  between  the 
legs  of  the  table. 

"  Ah,  you  have  a  gramophone,"  I  exclaimed  to 
Anna.  "  The  very  thing !  Let  us  play  it !  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  simply,  "  no !  " 

"  But,  Anna,"  her  older  sister  remonstrated,  "  you 
know  you  do  play  it  every  evening !  " 

Anna  resented  her  sister's  interruption.  "  Well, 
never  mind,  I  don't  want  to  play  it  to-night ! " 

Not  only  my  particular  curiosity  as  to  her  reasons 
for  not  allowing  us  to  have  the  gramophone  music 
then,  but  also  my  general  curiosity  about  this  girl, 
were  now  thoroughly  aroused.  I  could  not  press  the 
point  further  then,  but  I  resolved  to  find  out  some- 
thing about  this  mysterious,  sad  girl,  who,  with  her 
native  refinement,  seemed  rather  out  of  place  there 
in  that  rough  Lapp  village. 

I  was  restless ;  I  am  accustomed  after  dinner  to 
expect  something  especially  diverting;  I  wanted 
something  to  happen  so  that  my  evening  in  a  Lapp 
village  might  be  the  more  memorable.  Accordingly, 
I  got  up  and  went  out  into  the  other  room  of  the 
house,  where  I  found  the  consumptive  man  and  his 
wife,  a  strongly-built  termagant.  He,  like  hen- 
pecked men  generally,  was  most  genial,  and  what  with 
the  conversation  and  the  warmth  and  the  cheeriness 
of  the  fire,  I  felt  better.  Some  villagers  had  mean- 
time passed  through  into  the  big  room,  giving  me  my 


138      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

opportunity  for  the  sort  of  entertainment  I  was 
after,  and  I  hopefully  went  back  to  the  inner  room, 
undid  my  bed-roll,  and  took  out  candy,  soap,  cigar- 
ettes, and  sugar.  I  gave  away  some  biscuits  and 
candy,  and  sold  more.  I  gave  each  child  who  came 
in  a  bright,  red  English  primer,  full  of  little  colored 
pictures. 

The  whole  village  was  soon  dribbling  into  the 
room ;  the  men  were  smoking  my  cigarettes  and  spit- 
ting noisily  and  incessantly  on  the  floor.  Then  I 
brought  out  from  my  rucksack  pocketbooks,  gloves, 
flannel  shirts,  chains,  and  buttons,  an  odd  assortment 
which  I  had  carried  in  my  travels  far  enough.  For 
two  and  three  roubles  each  my  little  objects  quickly 
disappeared  and  so  did  the  money  of  the  Lapps. 
Anna  purchased  one  of  several  English  coins  I  was 
selling  as  souvenirs.  Then  I  announced  clearly  that 
it  was  skins,  skins  !  that  I  wished  to  trade  for.  There 
was  that  most  excellent  flannel  shirt  from  New  York, 
and  in  addition  twenty-five  packets  of  cigarettes  to  be 
had  for  a  pair  of  good  reindeer-skin  gloves.  A  pair 
of  good  reindeer-skin  gloves  appeared,  and  succes- 
sively three  reindeer  skins  as  well  as  several  pairs  of 
slippers,  plain,  with  colored-thread  markings,  and 
one  pair  of  baby  slippers;  for  all  of  which  I  paid 
with  sugar  and  cigarettes.  But  no  fur  hat  had  been 
produced.  I  saw  one  I  coveted  on  the  head  of  the 
boy  who  had  sold  me  a  pair  of  slippers  for  40  packets 
of  cigarettes. 

His  mother  had  brought  back  the  cigarettes  in  a 
cloth  and  thrown  them  in  a  heap  on  the  floor  with 


HONEY  LOU  139 

dark  mutterings ;  I  did  not  understand  what  she  said ; 
notwithstanding,  I  had  felt  myself  unqualifiedly  the 
unscrupulous  trader  who  had  taken  advantage  of  a 
boy's  vicious  craving  for  cigarettes,  especially  in  the 
eyes  of  Anna,  who  continued  to  sew  skins:  so  I  had 
presented  to  the  mother  the  slippers  with  a  careless 
shrug  of  my  shoulders.  In  twenty  minutes  the  boy 
was  back  with  a  skin  for  which  I  again  had  paid  the 
heap  of  cigarettes  lying  on  the  floor,  and  which  I 
discovered  afterward  was  almost  worthless.  An- 
other boy  sold  me  a  fish  which  my  cook  would  serve 
only  to  the  cat.  Wicked,  avaricious  people,  the 
Lapps ! 

My  great  desire  now  was  to  get  a  hat  somehow ! 
I  gave  one  good  look  at  my  signet  ring  and  one  long 
thought  to  the  dear  aunt  who  gave  it  to  me  for  a 
graduation  present,  and  then  told  the  boy  to  take  the 
ring  home  to  his  mother  and  see  if  she  would  give  his 
hat  for  it.  He  came  back  with  the  ring  on  his 
finger;  the  hat  was  soon  on  my  head;  the  regular 
300-rouble  sort  of  brown,  soft  young  reindeer-skin 
hat  with  long  fur  strings  at  the  sides,  tipped  with 
white  fur ;  it  was  mine !  I  bought  another  fur  hat, 
not  so  handsome  but  more  a  la  mode,  for  the  two 
blankets  that  I  had  brought  in  my  sleeping-roll, 
delivery  the  following  morning.  I  promised  the  coat 
on  my  back  to  my  hostess  for  her  husband,  in  the 
face  of  a  competition  of  flattering  offers.  And  fi- 
nally the  limit  to  my  salable  commodities  being  prac- 
tically reached,  I  sat  back  among  my  cleverly-pur- 
chased furs  to  enjoy  their  luxuriousness.  How 


140      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

could  I  have  spent  a  more  exciting  evening  in  Kil- 
densky  Pagost ! 

During  all  the  time  of  my  trading,  however,  I  had 
felt  the  quiet  presence  of  Anna :  to  her,  undoubtedly, 
I  appeared  the  guilty  speculator  I  was ;  certainly  she 
took  me  for  a  despicable  merchant;  that  I  hadn't 
traded  with  rum  was  only  because  I  was  unable  to 
get  it,  she  probably  thought.  After  the  trading, 
Anna  left  the  house  in  the  company  of  a  girl  of  her 
own  age,  and  so  gave  me  the  opportunity  to  learn 
her  history  in  the  village;  in  fact,  opportunity  was 
already  knocking  on  the  door  in  the  person  of  a  lady 
of  fifty  who  was  seated  at  the  table  near  me,  fingering 
an  unsold  pair  of  gloves  of  mine  (how  could  any 
Lapp  have  respect  for  my  glossy  factory  gloves  when 
the  Lapp  gloves  were  so  much  warmer  and  prettier?). 
This  lady  wore  the  old  Russian,  brightly-colored 
hat,  covered  in  front  with  a  beaded  pattern ;  from 
her  belt  hung  her  keys,  her  scissors,  her  thimble,  and 
short  strings  of  beads.  Of  course,  she  was  only  too 
glad  to  be  my  informant. 

During  the  winter  and  till  two  weeks  before,  there 
had  been   stationed  at  Kildensky  Pagost   a  British 

officer,  Captain  S .     I  was  already  acquainted 

with  this  fact ;  I  had  been  told  at  Kola  headquarters 
how  this  officer  had  been  detailed  to  this  village  with 
orders  to  keep  the  Lapps  in  the  neighborhood 
friendly  to  the  Allies,  and,  in  case  of  need,  to  use 
Lapp  scouts  for  getting  quick  intelligence  of  any 
advance  of  the  enemy.  I  had  been  told  also  what 
fine  things  Captain  S had  done  for  the  Lapps, 


HONEY  LOU  141 

and  how,  as  a  consequence,  he  ruled  over  them  like  a 
king :  he  had  kept  his  Lapps  well-supplied  with  food ; 
he  had  broken  up  an  epidemic  that  once  threatened 
the  village,  giving  what  medical  attention  to  its  vic- 
tims he  could,  himself;  he  had  learned  a  lot  of  both 
the  Lapp  and  the  Russian  languages,  and  had  taught 
the  children  English.  Anna  was  his  active  lieuten- 
ant in  all  his  work,  so  it  now  appeared  from  my  gos- 
sip's story —  and  probably  his  inspiration,  as  well ! 
Indeed  the  captain  spent  most  of  his  evenings  in  this 
very  room  of  mine  host  and  beside  this  very  table. 
Their  language  studies  weren't  of  a  tedious  nature 
evidently.  Captain  S —  -  had  a  Decker  gramo- 
phone, and  for  an  hour  or  two  every  evening  it  was 
going  steadily.  The  villagers  flocked  in,  and  some- 
times the  young  folks  danced  there.  The  captain 
was  as  fond  of  the  machine  music  as  the  Lapps,  and 
would  have  played  even  more  than  he  did,  so  my  dis- 
cerning gossip  assured  me,  except  that  he  had  dis- 
covered that  the  only  way  he  could  get  time  more  or 
less  alone  with  Anna  was  to  stop  the  gramophone 
regularly  in  the  middle  of  the  evening;  after  that  he 
and  Anna  chatted  by  themselves  in  a  mixture  of 
Lapp,  Russian,  and  English  words. 

Well,  now  Captain  S was  gone.     I  happened 

to  know  how  reluctant  headquarters  were  to  have  him 
leave  Kildensky,  even  then  when  there  was  no  danger 
of  military  action  in  that  quarter;  the  sort  of 
thing  he  did  there  was  a  rare  piece  of  good  work; 
having  created  in  a  widening  circle  among  all  the 
Lapps  of  the  peninsula  an  amicable  understanding 


142      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

with  the  Allied  forces.  But  Captain  S said  he 

was  sick  and  must  go  to  England,  and  the  doctor 
said  that  the  captain  was  much  sicker  than  he  ad- 
mitted and  that  the  proper  treatment  for  his  illness 
could  only  be  given  in  England.  After  his  departure 
from  the  village,  Anna  was  not  the  same  girl ;  my  in- 
formant whispered  that  she  thought  the  girl  was 
sick ;  from  the  moment  I  had  set  eyes  upon  her,  Anna 
had  impressed  me  as  being  a  sick  woman. 

The  newly-weds  began  to  retire  within  their  cur- 
tained bed  and  the  last  lingering  guests  departed. 
The  hozeaka  went  to  bed  and  pulled  her  curtains.  I 
made  a  soft  bed  for  myself  on  the  floor  on  top  of  my 
skins,  and  got  inside  my  bed-roll.  But  I  could  not 
go  to  sleep.  The  strong  tea  I  had  drunk  in  large 
quantities,  or  the  excitement  of  the  bartering,  or 
vivid  patches  of  the  gossip's  story,  something  it  was 
that  kept  me  staring  awake!  I  watched  the  moon- 
light play  over  the  unfamiliar  objects  of  the  room. 
About  twelve  o'clock  Anna  returned  and  made  up  her 
bed  of  skins  on  the  floor,  as  far  as  possible  from 
mine,  but  still  so  near  I  could  hear  her  breathing. 
The  consumptive  in  the  outer  room  began  coughing 
and  coughed  all  night.  Before  I  fell  asleep  —  I 
think  that  it  was  about  three  o'clock  —  I  had  deter- 
mined upon  one  additional  piece  of  bargaining  in  the 
Lapp  village.  Immediately  after  morning  tea  I  pro- 
ceeded to  complete  this  transaction. 

"  Anna,"  I  said,  pointing  to  the  instrument,  "  I 
should  like  to  purchase  this  gramophone.  They  tell 
me  it  is  yours." 


HONEY  LOU  143 

"  Yes,  it  is  mine,  but  I  do  not  want  to  sell  it." 

"  But  I  wish  a  Decker  gramophone  like  yours  very 
much;  there  isn't  one  on  the  market  in  all  North 
Russia.  I  am  willing  to  pay  you  a  good  price." 

"  There  is  no  price  you  could  name  that  would 
induce  me  to  sell." 

"  You  have  in  mind  the  prices  I  was  offering  last 
night  for  furs !  When  I  really  want  something  I  am 
not  stopped  by  a  price ;  I  am  an  American !  " 

"  You  look  like  an  Englishman !  " 

"  Anna,  I  will  give  a  thousand  roubles !  " 

"  A  thousand  roubles  isn't  much  this  year." 

"  Two  thousand  roubles,  then !  Twenty-five  hun- 
dred roubles  !  You  can  go  a  long  way  on  that !  " 

"  You  are  j  oking.  You  are  throwing  away  your 
money ! " 

"  I'm  not  j  oking.  I  want  that  gramophone  more 
than  a  little  1 " 

"Why  this  one?"  Anna  was  watching  me 
closely. 

I  did  not  wince  under  her  examination.  "  Because 
I  want  it.  You  know  what  caprice  is !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  caprice  is.  You  will  really 
pay  twenty-five  hundred  roubles  ?  "  Anna  was  cal- 
culating something  more  than  roubles  in  her  small 
head,  I  thought. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  will  pay  you  the  money  this 
morning." 

"  You  may  have  the  gramophone  for  twenty-five 
hundred  roubles ! " 

"And  how  much  may  I  have  the  records   for? 


144.      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

You  aren't  letting  them  go  with  the  machine,  even 
for  so  handsome  a  price,  are  you?  " 

"  I  never  thought  about  the  records.  You  will 
not  want  them!  They  will  be  of  no  use  to  you. 
They  are  badly  scratched.  You  can  get  new  records 
at  Murmansk." 

"  That's  where  you  are  entirely  mistaken :  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  get  records  here  in  North  Rus- 
sia now." 

"  I  will  not  sell  the  records ! " 
"  Yes  you  will  —  for  a  thousand  roubles  ?  " 
"  You  are  a  queer  man.     I  noticed  that  last  night 
when  you  were  buying  the  skins.     You  became  very 
much  excited  about  it,  didn't  you?     Are  all  Amer- 
icans like  you  ?     I  never  saw  one  before !  " 
"  Well!  which  question  shall  I  answer?  " 
*  Why   were   you   so   much   excited  last   evening  ? 
Your  eyes  were  on  everybody  and  everything !  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know !  "  I  wanted  to  reply  —  as  I 
always  want  to  reply  to  such  a  typical  Slav  question 
—"That's  wholly  my  affair!"  "May  I  have  the 
records, —  please !  " 

"  Yes,  all  except  one !  " 
"  And  may  I  ask  which  record  is  that ! " 
"  Why,  I  don't  see  that  it  should  make  any  differ- 
ence to  you !     It's  a  song  called  '  Honey  Lou  ' !  " 

This    was    evidently    S 's    favorite    record.     I 

knew  the  music ;  as  music  it  had  no  merit ;  I  would 
wager  a  good  deal  that,  half-civilized  Lapp  though 
she  was,  Anna's  favorite  record  would  have  ten  times 
the  musical  virtue. 


HONEY  LOU  145 

"  If  It  is  *  Honey  Lou  ' !  "  I  exclaimed  with  feigned 
ecstasy,  "  I  will  give  you  two  hundred  roubles  for 
the  record.  It  is  a  splendid  song,  isn't  it?  " 

"  I  am  not  used  to  thinking  such  music  fine,  but 
you  English  and  Americans  are,  I  suppose !  It  may 
not  be  a  fine  record,  but  I  don't  intend  to  sell  it ;  my 
caprice,  you  see!  Besides  it's  the  most  scratched 
record  of  the  lot !  " 

"  Don't  be  sentimental,"  I  said  slowly  and  in  a 
tone  different  from  any  I  had  previously  used  with 
Anna ;  "  for  that  record  I  will  give  you  200  roubles, 
and,  in  addition,  all  the  skins  I  purchased  last  night. 
I'll  have  to  pay  you  part  with  skins  because  I  haven't 
the  whole  price  in  cash  left  here  with  me !  " 

"  You  are  a  rash  trader !  I  have  seen  Russians 
and  Lapps  trade  in  such  a  spirit,  but  I  do  not  under- 
stand your  caprice  at  all !  "  She  looked  me  straight 
in  the  eyes  as  if  trying  hard  to  understand. 

"  There  you  are !  All  these  skins,  the  profits  of 
my  whole  expedition !  "  I  picked  up  my  skins  one  by 
one  and  arrayed  them  on  her  person  and  about  her 
chair  and  the  table.  I  laughed  and  she  smiled:  it 
was  a  bargain!  And  the  excitement  of  this  single 
piece  of  bartering  was  as  much  greater  than  that  of 
all  the  bartering  of  the  evening  before,  as  was  the 
price  greater  than  all  the  prices  of  the  evening 
before. 

An  hour  later  I  was  on  my  way  returning  to  Kola 
much  more  quickly  than  I  had  come,  in  frosty  air 
and  over  crisp  snow.  Three  days  later  I  was  on  a 
boat  being  carefully  piloted  out  of  Murmansk  bar- 


146      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

bor.  A  wicked  time  I  had  of  it  on  that  cargoless 
boat!  I  had  come  aboard  late,  after  the  ship  had 
gone  into  midstream,  to  discover  that  my  cabin-berth 
had  been  given  to  another.  As  a  consequence  the 
Captain  declared  my  appearance  unofficial,  and  dur- 
ing the  whole  voyage  I  slept  in  the  saloon,  I  ate  in 
the  saloon,  I  was  sick  in  the  saloon,  beastly  sick  and 
cold!  We  had  among  the  first-class  passengers 
some  English  officers,  several  Italian  and  American 
officers,  and,  at  the  last  table,  seven  or  eight  Russian 
officers;  these  Russians  were  my  bed-fellows  on  the 
benches  of  the  saloon. 

The  name  of  Captain  S I  found  posted  on  the 

life-boat  lists  that  first  morning  out,  and  I  had  him 
pointed  out  to  me,  a  tall,  fair  fellow!  He  was 
dressed  during  the  voyage  carelessly  in  soft  high 
boots.  He  walked  the  deck,  and  swung  from  post  to 
wall  inside  the  boat  when  she  rocked,  with  an  un- 
conscious swank.  He  was  freckled;  he  did  not  look 
sick  till  you  were  face  to  face  with  him.  All  the 
time  he  was  not  walking  the  deck,  he  sat  next  the 
commanding  officer  at  the  first  table,  and  played 
cards  with  him  and  his  set. 

In  the  middle  of  one  evening,  when  our  unsteady 
ship  sobered  down  a  little,  I  rose  from  my  recumbent 
position  in  the  particular  corner  of  the  saloon  to 
which  I  had  squatter-claim,  with  an  idea  of  something 
to  do  beyond  smoking  a  cigarette  or  picking  up  to 
read  a  ship's-library  dense  novel  of  Henry  James, 
"  The  Sacred  Fount."  I  went  into  the  passage-way 
and  took  out  from  my  kit-bag  near  the  stairs  the 


HONEY  LOU  147 

"  Decker  "  I  had  acquired  at  Kildensky.  I  placed 
it  on  one  of  the  saloon  tables  and  set  it  going.  The 
cheer  spread  about  by  the  clinking  notes  of  the 
gramophone  was  only  too  apparent.  It  had  its 
effect  on  the  group  of  officers  playing  bridge  and 
drinking  whiskies,  and  was,  I  thought,  the  indirect 
cause  of  bringing  their  game  to  an  accounting  stage. 

At  the  moment  I  saw  that  Captain  S was  free 

from  his  game,  I  put  on  my  costly  record,  "  Honey 

Lou."     Instantly  Captain  S came  over  to  my 

table  and  sat  down  beside  the  machine. 

"  Honey  Lou,  you  know  how  much  I  love  you, 
Love  you  more  and  more,  each  passing  day! 
And  I'm  sure  I'm  never  going  to  leave  you  long, 
Or  go  away,  far  away. 
Honey  Lou-ou-ou-ou-ou !  " 

At  this  part  of  the  song  the  needle  had  stuck  in  a 
cavity  in  the  record.  I  had  known  that  it  would 
when  I  put  the  record  on,  but  I  did  not  show  myself 
ready  to  shift  the  needle  along.  In  a  minute  Cap- 
tain S had  reached  over  and  done  so.  I  was 

surprised  by  all  this  rapidity  of  the  steps  in  the 
working  out  of  my  idea,  and  so  was  caught  almost 
unprepared  by  the  Captain's  sudden  question,  "  Have 
you  had  your  '  Decker  '  long?  " 

"  Why,  no !  only  a  few  days." 

"  You  bought  it  in  Russia  then  —  second-hand,  I 
suppose." 

"  Yes,  and  I  paid  a  good,  stiff  price  for  it ! " 

"  Of  course  you  did ;  scarcity  value !  " 


148      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

"  The  price  was  robbery,  about  four  thousand 
roubles.'* 

"  Some  one  was  out  to  make  a  fortune  out  of  you. 
There  are  officers  there  in  Russia  who  are  making 
fortunes,  they  say,  *  skolkoing,'  selling  rum  and  jam 
to  the  natives !  " 

"  My  vendor  was  no  officer ;  she  is  a  native,  her- 
self!" 

"  She,  she !  Oh,  I  see !  In  what  part  of  the  dis- 
trict were  you,  Mr.  Caldwell?  " 

"  I  was  at  Kola  mostly !  » 

"  It  was  a  Kola  native  you  showered  with  your 
roubles  then ! " 

"  No,  I  didn't  purchase  it  at  Kola ;  not  many  miles 
away,  though." 

"At  Kildensky  Pagost?  " 

"That's  it!  at  Kildensky  Pagost.  She  did  not 
want  at  all  to  sell  me  the  machine,  Captain  S ." 

"  You  think  she  consented  to  sell  because  you 
offered  so  much  money.  With  the  money  — !  " 

"  The  money  in  this  case  might  do  more  for  her 
sentiments  than  the  gramophone." 

"  You  think  she  intends  to  follow  me.  I  see  you 
know  our  story !  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  understand  it,  Captain  S ." 

"  And  how  was  the  girl  when  you  saw  her?  " 

"  Not  in  good  health,  I  should  say,  Captain." 

"Will  you  have  a  whisky?"  he  interposed. 

"  No,  thanks,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  would  have  a 
glass  of  port ! "  The  waiter  brought  two  ports. 
Meantime  I  wound  the  machine  up  and  "  Honey 


HONEY  LOU  149 

Lou  "  came  out  again  for  us,  and  again  Captain 

S lifted  the  needle  out  of  the  dent  in  the  record. 

I  was  thinking  how  different  he  had  probably  looked 
when  he  used  to  lift  the  needle  out  of  the  dent  at 
Kildensky.  I  could  well  imagine  what  the  man  was 
when  he  was  gay.  Now  the  music  had  given  him  a 
touch  of  melancholy ;  he  felt  my  unspoken  sympathy 
and  he  opened  a  little  of  his  heart  to  me,  saying,  "  I 
did  think  I  never  could  leave  the  witch, —  but  I  did; 
I  must  return  to  England  to  save  my  life,  the  doc- 
tor said ! " 

"  And  isn't  it  the  only  way  to  save  hers ! 
Shouldn't  she  come  away  to  England  for  the  best 
medical  care  and  treatment,  too?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.  We  civilized  brutes  leave  behind 
us  immoral  diseases  with  these  backward  peoples,  but 
are  too  moral  to  leave  behind  the  cures  for  them." 

"  And  if  she  does  follow  you  and  find  you,  you 
will  not  allow  her  to  regret  yielding  this  inestimable 
object  for  a  price?  " 

"  Don't  judge  me  too  harshly,  Caldwell.  I  did 
my  best  to  persuade  her  to  come  with  me  or  follow 
me  on  close  after.  But  she  wouldn't  listen  to  any- 
thing I  said.  The  more  I  urged  her,  the  more  I 
wanted  her  to  come,  at  the  same  time  the  more 
stubborn  she  became :  all  my  words  only  made  it  clear 
to  her,  she  said,  that  for  us  to  be  together  at  all  in 
England  would  be  bad  for  me  1  she  could  not  go  into 
my  society  there  with  me.  Silly  child!  she 
thought  I  might  come  back  to  Russia ;  there  it  would 
hurt  nobody  for  us  to  be  together.  I  had  to  leave 


150      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

her  talking  that  way.  I  gave  her  directions  for 
following  me  to  England,  and  I  gave  her  two  letters 
that  will  let  her  past  the  officials  at  Murmansk,  I 
think.  Do  you  know  what  made  her  change  her 
mind?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  replied  sincerely,  "  I  can  only 
guess.  Perhaps  it  is  that  her  will  is  weaker  now,  or 
rather  the  glamour  of  the  high  principle  for  which 
she  was  acting,  has  gone,  and  she  only  feels  intense 
suffering ;  perhaps  she  douhts  the  principle.  At  any 
rate  she  is  quite  right  in  getting  out  of  Kildensky; 
she  has  seen  too  much  of  the  world  outside  her  native 
village ;  she  has  seen  her  one  man  of  the  whole  world, 
outside." 

"  She  is  capable  of  coming  to  find  me,  do  you 
think?" 

"  Certainly  she  is !  Those  Lapp  women  are  cap- 
able of  doing  everything  for  their  men ;  they  do  most 
of  the  work;  what  little  I  was  among  the  Lapps,  I 
noticed  this." 

"  If  you  had  been  there  a  longer  time,  as  I  was,  for 
example,  you  would  have  no  doubt  on  that  point. 
The  Lapp  women  do  do  everything  for  their  men." 

"  And  Anna,  when  you  were  there  — ?  " 

"  Did  everything  for  me,  yes !  " 

"  And  you  can  do  everything  for  her  —  in  Eng- 
land." 

"  It  will  be  hard.  My  people  —  of  course  —  but 
hang  them;  for  their  sakes  I  doubt  if  I  should  be 
able  to  pull  myself  out  of  this  disease  1" 

«  But,  for  her !  " 


HONEY  LOU  151 

"  For  Anna  —  well,  I  shall  leave  no  stone  unturned 
to  get  better !  " 

"And  she,  for  her  part?  " 

"  Mind,  she  has  no  weak  will  when  there's  anything 
to  be  done  for  me." 

"  And  you  want  her  cured  for  yourself?  " 

"  Yes,  if  it  must  be  put  so  crudely,  I  do  want  her 
cured  for  myself." 

"Another  question,  S !  don't  answer  if  I  am 

too  inquisitive:  you  love  her  just  as  much  as  if  she 
hadn't, —  as  if  she  weren't  —  sick  ?  " 

"  More,  more !  It  is  strange,  isn't  it  ?  I  would 
never  have  believed  it  possible  eight  months  ago." 

"  More !  even  though  it  was  she  did  you  the  in- 
jury?" I  was  frightened  at  the  boldness  of  my 
question. 

"  It  was  not  she  who  did  me  the  injury.  I  will 
confess  it  was  I  did  her  the  injury  —  though  I  didn't 
know  it  at  the  time.  But  if  our  both  being  sick  — 
if  she  were  responsible  for  that;  well,  I  should  still 
love  her,  and  love  her  no  less,  I  believe!  Strange, 
isn't  it?" 


RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS 

On  account  of  our  present-day  means  of  receiving 
news  by  headlines  and  more  headlines,  we  are  gain- 
ing wrong  ideas  about  the  Russians ;  for  these  head- 
lines bear  a  message,  politically-selected,  perhaps,  as 
it  drifts  to  us  through  Europe,  which  distorts  the 
character  of  that  people.  The  Russians  are  not 
cruel  and  bloodthirsty;  they  are  not  all  Cossacks 
that  ride  wild  horses  and  love  only  to  fight  and  plun- 
der. Executions,  indeed,  there  have  been,  now  by 
the  Reds,  and  now  by  the  Whites.  Some  one  has 
said  that  the  difference  between  these  two  kinds  of 
political  slaughter  is  that  the  killing  by  the  Reds  is 
the  hot  vengeance  of  youth  and  the  killing  by  the 
Whites  is  the  cold  vengeance  of  the  old.  Personally 
I  learned  of  little  violence  while  I  was  in  Soviet 
Russia,  though  I  have  no  doubt  the  Bullitt  figures 
of  five  thousand  executions  in  all  Soviet  Russia  may 
be  true  enough. 

At  a  political  meeting  I  saw  the  head  of  the  Kazan 
counter-revolutionary  tribunal  that  had  condemned 
to  death  two  young  officers.  I  knew  that  these  offi- 
cers had  been  plotting  the  overthrow  of  the  Bolshevik 
power.  The  President  of  this  bloody  arm  of  the 
Soviet  power  in  Kazan  sat  several  rows  ahead  of  me, 

the  only  man  in  the  hall  with  a  hat  on,  the  only  man 

152 


RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS         153 

smoking  (a  fat  cigar,  difficult  to  be  found  in  the  city 
at  any  price!).  I  thought  to  myself  at  the  time: 
"  What  a  heartless  barbarian ! "  Later,  taking  a 
position  where  I  could  study  the  fellow's  face,  I  was 
surprised  to  find  it,  far  from  being  rough,  rather  the 
face  of  a  simple-souled  idealist;  surely  he  had  not 
the  instincts  of  a  murderer!  The  executions  for 
which  he  and  other  somewhat  fanatical  Russians  were 
in  those  days  responsible  were  the  excrescences  of 
what,  looked  at  sympathetically  in  respect  to 
motives,  however  mistaken,  might  be  considered  as  a 
holy  revolutionary  crusade  that  sought  not  to 
abridge  life  but  to  provide  it  more  abundantly. 

Many  observers,  especially  military  people  I 
talked  with  in  North  Russia,  consider  the  Russian 
irretrievably  childish  by  nature,  but  it  seems  to  me 
that  such  observers  misread  Russian  character. 
What  often  at  first  appears  childishness  and  lack 
of  judgment  and  self-government  in  the  Russian  may 
on  deeper  analysis  be  found  to  be  an  entire  absence  of 
the  prejudices,  artifices,  and  prides  of  western  civil- 
ization. His  thinking,  especially  at  the  present  mo- 
ment, is  loose  and  decoded. 

Many  hilarious  stories  of  Russian  childishness 
and  superstition  can  be  enjoyed  in  recent  periodical 
literature.  There  is  the  story  of  the  Russian  man 
and  wife  traveling  from  Kofkula  to  Tula  who  meet 
a  priest  and  thereupon  retrace  their  steps  to  Kofkula 
in  order  to  begin  their  journey  over  again  under 
more  auspicious  circumstances.  There  is  the  story 
of  the  confiscation  by  peasants  of  a  large  estate  on 


154      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

which  was  an  artificial  pond  well-stocked  with  fish. 
It  was  at  first  proposed  to  kill  the  fish  for  a  village 
feast,  but  the  proposal  that  carried  the  day  was  the 
one  that  they  should  let  the  fish  escape  down  the 
brook  and  be  free,  even  as  were  the  peasants  now 
themselves.  Quite  typical  of  this  sort  of  story  is 
the  recent  yarn  about  the  patients  at  a  hospital  in 
Kief  who  went  on  a  strike  because  the  doctors  re- 
fused to  treat  all  of  them  equally  with  injections 
which  had  been  the  distinct  privilege  of  the  typhoid 
patients. 

Whatever  basis  for  these  stories  there  may  be,  one 
draws  the  conclusion  that  Russian  people,  or  Russian 
peasants  even,  are  fools,  to  one's  own  folly.  ,Rather 
than  exaggerate  the  number  of  soft-headed  Russians 
per  capita,  it  would  be  better  for  us  to  consider  ab- 
jectly the  number  of  fools  to  be  found  at  home.  We 
have  in  America  many  who  live  mentally  altogether 
on  inherited  and  current  prejudices  and  shibboleths, 
and  not  a  few  of  this  number  we  honor  with  high 
office  and  make  our  mouthpieces.  Moreover,  we  are 
a  people  given  as  much  as  any  other,  perhaps,  to 
popular  hysteria  and  hasty  mob-action.  To  be  sure, 
we  are  rid  of  many  of  the  superstitions  of  the  older 
civilizations.  We  do  not,  for  instance,  change  our 
direction  by  reason  of  the  chance  meeting  with  a 
priest.  But  we  stick,  all  the  same,  to  certain  crude 
national  and  racial  beliefs  of  our  own  that  are  as 
illogical  as  corresponding  beliefs  that  persist  in 
Russia  or  in  China.  That  tale  of  the  nationaliza- 
tion of  Russian  women,  which  is  still  sedulously  and 


RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS         155 

indecently  retailed  by  men  with  reputation  among 
us,  is  an  example  of  the  barefaced  credulity  that  re- 
flects both  on  the  intelligence  and  on  the  moral  recti- 
tude of  some  Americans. 

In  addition  to  the  Russian's  simplicity,  by  some 
foreigners  termed  childishness,  are  the  predominant 
qualities  of  eagerness  and  tolerance,  normal  to  the 
Russian  temperament,  and  to-day  accentuated  by  a 
flood  of  energy  emanating  from  the  hope  and  the 
enthusiasm  released  by  the  revolution.  On  our  ship 
steaming  from  Newcastle  to  Murmansk,  were  3000 
Russians,  wounded  at  Salonika  and  in  France  fight- 
ing for  the  Allies,  and  they  gave  us  our  first  taste 
of  the  new  revolutionary  ardor.  Always  they  were 
singing  their  revolutionary  songs ;  some  one  of  them 
was  often  seen  reading  a  newspaper  to  a  group  of  his 
illiterate  comrades;  at  one  and  the  same  time,  two 
or  three  self-appointed  leaders  would  be  speaking 
from  rostra  in  different  parts  of  the  boat,  or  groups 
would  be  joining  in  heated  but  fistless  debate.  One 
Russian  in  first-class,  an  ex-cavalry  colonel  whom 
I  know  was  an  ardent  monarchist  at  heart,  went  down 
among  the  soldiers  dressed  in  rough  clothes  and  was 
listened  to  with  attention,  though  I  suppose  the  big 
majority  of  the  men  were  convinced  republicans. 
(Speaking  of  old  clothes,  all  the  Americans  in  our 
party  at  first  rigidly  observed  the  rule  in  Russia  of 
appearing  only  in  undignified  clothes ;  this  was  in 
accordance  with  one  of  our  superstitions  regarding 
the  Bolsheviki.)  Raymond  Robins,  chief  of  the 
American  Red  Cross  in  Russia,  tells  an  amazing 


156      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

story  of  Russian  tolerance.  Speaking  at  Gatchina 
in  a  hall  crowded  with  pro-Bolshevik  soldiers,  he 
was  urging  support  of  Kerensky  and  the  war  against 
Germany.  When  he  had  finished  and  was  going  to 
the  door,  there  was  a  mass-movement  of  soldiers 
toward  him.  He  feared  for  his  life,  as  they  took  him 
on  their  shoulders,  shouting.  But  the  shouting,  he 
tells  us  with  the  wonder  still  in  his  heart,  was  ap- 
proval of  a  man  himself,  of  whose  political  thesis 
they  could  not  be  persuaded. 

My  experience  as  an  American  traveling  a  good 
deal  in  Russia  in  the  summer  of  1918  leads  me  to 
confess  that  the  Bolsheviks  have  on  the  whole  sur- 
prisingly good  manners.  I  saw  among  the  Bolshevik 
commissars,  clerks  and  railroad-men  less  of  that 
hauteur  and  crankiness  than  is  usually  found  in 
the  official  mind  that  one  comes  to  know  and  dread 
when  traveling  abroad.  Perhaps  these  officials  will 
become  cantankerous  in  time  as  the  newness  of  their 
task  wears  off,  but  my  guess  is  that  their  fresh  minds, 
often  sadly  untrained,  are  not  going  stale  in  this 
generation.  The  experience  of  some  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
men  I  knew  illustrates  well  the  freshness  of  the  ways 
of  the  Bolshevik  officials. 

A  party  of  Y.  M.  C.  A.  secretaries  had  been  suc- 
cessful in  crossing  the  Czech  lines  from  Samara  into 
Bolshevik  Russia  by  boat  along  the  Volga  River, 
and  with  them  had  smuggled  through  a  large  quan- 
tity of  flour,  which  nearly  doubled  in  value  every 
hundred  miles  they  brought  it  north  and  east.  At 
Jaroslav  the  Americans  asked  permission  from  the 


RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS         157 

authorities  to  send  the  flour  on  to  Moscow,  stating 
that  it  was  for  use  of  the  American  Embassy,  the 
American  Consulate  at  Moscow,  and  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
The  Bolshevik  commissar  of  transport  for  the  city 
replied  that  if  the  flour  was  for  the  American  Em- 
bassy and  Consulate,  it  would  receive  immediate  at- 
tention, would  take  preference  to  other  freight,  and 
he,  himself,  would  see  that  the  matter  were  expedited, 
but  there  would  be  a  corresponding  charge  made; 
for,  he  argued,  the  American  Government  was  a 
bourgeois  government  and  could  afford  to  pay  well 
for  services  rendered ;  on  the  other  hand,  if  it  were 
purely  a  service  for  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  it  would  receive 
the  same  immediate  and  preferential  and  personal 
attention  —  but  there  would  be  no  charge,  as  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  did  much  for  the  Russian  people. 

Fortunately,  almost  everybody  had  a  warm  spot 
in  his  heart  for  Americans.  There  was  a  feeling 
that  Americans  loved  freedom  and  would  show  sym- 
pathy to  the  struggling  young  republic,  even  though 
it  were  socialist.  When  we  wished  to  get  past  a 
guard  to  a  train  or  into  a  building,  we  shouted 
"  Amerikanski  Meese,"  (American  Mission)  ;  that 
failing  to  work,  some  one  dug  out  an  old  certificate 
signed  by  a  well-known  Bolshevik  like  Sverdloff, 
President  of  the  All-Russian  Congress,  or  presented 
a  passport,  or  any  other  paper  in  Russian  or  Eng- 
lish with  a  documentary  appearance  or  a  red  seal 
upon  it,  and  the  guard  being  unable  to  read  looked 
up  at  us  respectfully  and  allowed  us  to  pass.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  people  hated  the  English,  but,  as 


158      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

far  as  I  could  observe,  treated  them  with  considera- 
tion. It  was  generally  believed  that  certain  English 
and  French  officials  were  aiding  the  counter-revolu- 
tionists. In  the  official  Soviet  newspaper  one  day, 
I  saw  the  story  of  the  complicity  of  French  and  Eng- 
lish in  the  Czecho-Slovak  rebellion  in  the  summer  of 
1918.  In  view  of  such  facts,  it  was  surprising  to  me 
that  foreigners  were  not  treated  more  roughly  than 
they  were. 

The  non-Bolshevik  Russians  are  not  discriminated 
against  so  much  as  one  has  been  led  to  suppose.  The 
fact  is,  that  the  former  bourgeoisie  are,  in  these 
hungry  days,  the  only  people  well  fed,  generally 
speaking;  for  they  may  sell  an  overcoat  or  a  jewel 
and  obtain  in  return  the  butter,  chicken,  and  eggs 
that  are  sold  at  prohibitive  and  speculative  prices. 
Many  of  the  former  officials  still  hold  office,  especially 
in  the  country.  Lenin  retains  the  Zemstvo  organiza- 
tions, although  they  were  the  typical  bourgeois,  or 
middle-class,  institution  of  before-the-war,  because  he 
realizes  its  functional  value  in  the  new  state.  Many 
of  the  old  Zemstvo  officers  remain  in  positions  of 
trust.  I  read  daily  proclamations  in  the  newspapers 
declaring  the  perverseness  and  black  character  of 
the  bourgeoisie,  but  whenever  these  proclamations 
were  put  into  effect,  it  was  generally  with  a  wide 
latitude,  and  common  sense,  and  humanity,  and  al- 
lowances shown  for  the  upper  classes.  In  the 
schools,  at  least,  I  believe  there  exists  irrefutable 
democracy.  The  children  of  the  upper  classes  re- 
ceive exactly  the  same  food,  instruction,  and  indi- 


RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS         159 

vidual  attention  as  children  of  the  present  "  ruling 
class." 

It  sounds  odd  to  speak  of  anything  to  do  with 
Bolshevism  as  democratic,  but  we  must  beware  that 
we  do  not  come  to  a  consideration  of  Soviet  theories 
prejudiced,  prepared  to  interpret  them  only  in  the 
terms  of  the  static  forms  of  the  so-called  democratic 
government  of  the  past,  forgetting  that  time  and 
change  of  conditions  may  eventually  destroy  the 
democratic  value  even  in  such  a  famous  instrument 
of  democracy,  as,  for  example,  the  constitution  of 
the  United  States,  itself.  Lenin  has  said  that  Rus- 
sia has  to-day  the  most  democratic  government  in 
the  world.  One  reason  for  this,  in  his  opinion,  is 
that  in  Russia  the  people  control  through  the  Soviets 
the  executive,  legislative  and  judicial  branches  of 
the  government,  directly.  Judges  are  elected,  the 
local  Soviet  makes  its  own  laws;  it  is  the  executive, 
itself;  its  members  are  commissars  of  labor,  educa- 
tion, streets,  police,  etc.  We,  for  our  part,  may 
prefer  as  the  guiding  principle  in  our  government, 
the  separation  of  the  executive,  judicial,  and  legis- 
lative powers,  but,  at  the  same  time,  we  may  be  gen- 
erous enough  intellectually  to  admit  that  our  prin- 
ciple is  essentially  no  more  democratic  than  the  Soviet 
principle.  It  has  been  thought  that  it  is  the  un- 
rtepresentative  character  of  the  present  body  of 
electors  that  makes  the  Soviet  government  undemo- 
cratic ;  it  has  been  thought  that  the  present  Russian 
Government  is  a  class-autocracy.  The  Bolsheviks 
reply  to  this  that  all  who  do  any  work  with  hand  or 


160      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

brain  among  them  are  entitled  to  vote,  and  that  idle- 
ness is  the  only  disqualification  for  voting.  The 
anti-Bolshevik  Bessabarian  delegate  to  the  Supreme 
Peace  Council  at  Paris,  after  traveling  through 
South  Russia,  declares  that  he  found  the  city  people 
there  want  Bolshevik  rule  and  that  the  peasants  are 
unconvinced  that  there  could  be  a  better  rule. 
Judging  from  several  such  pieces  of  information,  it 
would  seem  that  at  the  present  time  the  Bolshevik 
Government  is  this  much  democratic :  that  it  is  at  the 
least  more  wanted  than  any  alternative  government. 
No  doubt  propaganda  has  played  a  large  part  in 
increasing  support  for  the  Bolsheviks.  In  Kazan  I 
was  always  seeing  poster-announcements  of  lectures 
on  socialism  and  revolution.  A  well-known  professor 
of  history  at  Moscow  gave  a  course  of  lectures  on  the 
French  revolution.  I  heard  the  most  important 
woman  of  the  Bolsheviks,  Kallantai,  their  first  min- 
ister of  education,  lecture  on  the  subject,  "  Russian 
Parties  "  in  the  Workingmen's  and  Peasants'  Hall, 
once  the  grand  concert-hall  of  the  city,  but  then  dis- 
mantled ;  the  pictures  of  royalty  had  been  torn  out 
of  their  frames,  but  the  frames  remained  unbroken 
to  tell  the  story.  It  was  the  "  new-time  "  evening 
of  a  hot  day;  the  sun  shone  through  the  curtainless 
west  windows,  and  right  into  the  speaker's  face; 
everybody  improvised  a  fan ;  but  no  one  wearied  of 
the  two-and-a-half-hours  performance.  The  artisan 
family  was  there  in  its  holiday  clothes,  comfortable 
and  smiling  in  spite  of  the  heat ;  the  younger  element 
enjoyed  itself  in  the  usual  way,  during  the  inter- 


RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS         161 

mission  (there  were  refreshments  in  the  ante-cham- 
ber) ;  there  was  a  sprinkling  of  former  officers  and 
bourgeois  women  with  curling  lip.  Behind  me  sat 
the  President  of  the  Kazan  Mensheviks  (the  Socialist 
party  of  the  extreme  right).  Kallantai  excoriated 
the  Mensheviks  for  their  treachery  to  the  Proletariat, 
and  the  Menshevik  President,  thereupon,  left  the  hall. 
Our  skillful  and  persuasive  orator  next  vehemently 
attacked  the  right  Social-Revolutionaries,  accusing 
them  of  wishing  to  set  up  a  government  like  that  of 
America,  where,  she  declared  she  knew  by  her  own 
observations,  the  captialists  controlled  votes  by 
manipulation  of  the  press. 

The  priests  are  active  propagandists,  as  a  rule, 
against  the  Bolsheviks.  The  priests  feel  keenly  their 
loss  of  power  over  the  people  since  the  revolution. 
The  church,  however,  has  not  in  any  real  sense,  been 
persecuted ;  all  church  buildings  are  intact,  and  every 
service  of  the  church  calendar  is  held  without  change, 
the  priests  not  recognizing  the  new  calendar  adopted 
by  the  government,  which  is  our  calendar.  At  the 
ancient  cathedral  church  in  the  Moscow  Kremlin,  I 
witnessed,  with  many  other  Americans,  the  impressive 
all-night  Easter  service,  when  for  the  only  time  in 
the  year,  all  the  church  candles  are  lighted.  The 
Soviet  at  Moscow  did  take  action  to  destroy  one  of 
the  most  virulent  religious  superstitions.  The  Rus- 
sian orthodox  believing  that  the  bodies  of  the  saints 
remain  in  their  graves  uncorrupted,  the  Soviet  au- 
thorities disinterred  publicly  some  of  these  saints' 
coffins  to  prove  to  the  people  the  emptiness  of  the 


162      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

tradition.     At  the  village  of  K ,  I  expressed  to 

two  Bolshevik  school  teachers  whom  I  knew  to  be 
devout  and  regular  church  attendants,  my  surprise 
that  they  were  good  Bolsheviks  and  at  the  same  time 
good  churchmen.  They  replied :  "  We  Bolsheviks  are 
not  against  the  church;  we  are  against  the  priests 
who  for  many  years  have  robbed  the  people  and 
helped  the  Government  to  keep  them  down." 

At  Kazan  in  May  I  witnessed  the  ceremonies  of 
Kresne  Hod,  one  of  the  holiest  of  the  many  holy 
days.  Priest  and  flock  of  every  church  in  the  city 
marched  with  its  treasured  icons  to  the  Kremlin 
Square  before  the  gates  of  the  fortress,  for  the  an- 
nual service  held  there  in  the  presence  of  thousands. 
It  was  a  striking  picture  —  the  broad  Volga  River 
off  several  miles  below  under  rounded  hills  just  get- 
ting green,  the  old  painted  Tartar  walls  of  the  Krem- 
lin at  the  rear ;  the  faithful  of  each  congregation  com- 
ing from  different  directions  to  join  the  mass,  add- 
ing banner  to  banner,  and  color  to  color,  each  band 
singing,  and  its  own  church  bells  ringing  in  the  dis- 
tance; women  in  bright  peasant  costume  in  knots 
here  and  there ;  squads  of  Red  Guard  soldiers  carry- 
ing bayonets,  constantly  passing  through  the  mass 
of  people  to  the  fortress,  and,  as  they  did  so,  baring 
their  heads  respectfully,  neither  annoying  nor  being 
annoyed  (this  was  a  sample  of  ordinary  Russian 
tolerance) ;  in  the  center  of  the  crowd,  on  a  dais,  the 
gorgeously  bedecked  hierarchy  of  Kazan  Province. 
From  Russia  one  has  to  go  back  to  the  Middle  Ages 
for  such  a  spectacle.  The  Bolsheviks  have  taken 


RUSSIAN  NEW-MINDEDNESS        163 

over  from  the  church  some  of  this  appeal  of  the 
pageant.  In  the  proletarian  celebrations  is  usually 
a  display  of  revolutionary  banners,  and  there  is  much 
revolutionary  music,  which  draws  upon  the  folk  and 
the  church  melodies. 

The  new  political  movement  in  Russia  seems  to 
have  borrowed  much  more  than  pageantry  from  the 
church.  It  seems  to  have  awakened  and  concen- 
trated the  power  of  faith  in  the  people.  Russians 
are  beginning  to  believe  that  a  better  life  is  possible 
for  them,  and  that  they  have  in  themselves  the  means 
of  making  this  better  life.  They  recognize  that  these 
desirable  things  cannot  be  had  by  sheer  desire,  how- 
ever, and  that  as  a  condition  precedent  they  must 
improve  both  their  work  and  their  brains.  That  is 
why  they  attach  such  importance  to  education,  and 
why  there  has  arisen  among  them  a  feverish,  and  as 
yet  superficial,  new  culture.  Labor  magazines,  and 
cheap  editions  of  the  classics,  and  people's  universi- 
ties, and  enlightenment  societies  have  appeared  all 
over  the  country ;  even  in  parts  which  were  no  longer 
revolutionary  and  had  come  under  a  counter-revolu- 
tionary government,  such  as  North  Russia,  I  ob- 
served these  phenomena. 

But  along  with  the  new  belief  of  the  Russian  is  a 
skepticism  on  his  part  of  the  agencies  of  government 
and  enlightenment.  He  doggedly  calls  in  question 
the  church  and  the  old  education.  Oppressed  so 
long,  he  fears  reenslavement.  Confronted  with  of- 
fers of  help  and  encouragement  for  freedom  from 
outside  his  country,  he  is  preternaturally  suspicious. 


164      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

He  was,  I  found,  suspicious  of  the  good  will  expressed 
in  the  messages  of  President  Wilson  to  Russia. 
Coming  up  the  Hudson  River  on  an  Atlantic  liner 
after  two  years  abroad,  I  stood  beside  a  young  Rus- 
sian girl  who  was  seeing  New  York  for  the  first  time. 
"  H,ow  wonderful,"  she  gasped,  "  how  like  a  magic 
city !  See  the  steam-smoke  being  puffed  slowly  from 
each  building !  "  Then  after  five  minutes  of  silence, 
she  declared  solemnly,  "  I  said  a  few  minutes  ago  I 
liked  your  New  York.  I  do !  But,  now,  I  am  afraid 
of  it,  very  much  afraid."  What  this  girl  felt  toward 
the  expression  of  American  genius,  many  other  Rus- 
sians feel.  They  admire,  but  they  fear.  Do  they 
fear  that  even  in  our  wonderful  civilization,  boasting 
of  its  freedom,  there  may  not  be  some  doors  closed  to 
hospitality,  some  avenues  closed  to  the  mind,  some 
spaces  closed  to  the  spirit? 


TAVARISH 


Tavarish, 

You  crossed  the  lines  too  soon ! 

You  should  have  waited  for  the  movement  of  your 

company 

In  the  general  revolt  that  is  coming. 
Poor  fellow,  you  were  too  impatient ! 
Well,  never  mind!     You're  here  amid  your  strong 

Red  friends, 
If  only  for  an  hour. 
Wounded  Tavarish,  drink  this  hot  tea ; 
Drink  to  the  common  weal  of  us  common  Russians ! 

Tavarish, 

You  were  hungry  in  Archangel  —  the  Allied  base ; 

And    they    drafted    you    to    fight    your    Russian 

tavarishee ; 
And  so  you  had  to  turn  a  gun  against  us  —  poorly 

aimed,  very  poorly  aimed! 
But  the  English  sentry  who  spied  you 
Crossing  the  lines, 

Creeping  in  the  woods  through  the  crusted  snow, 
Aimed  well ! 
Drink,  dying  comrade,  this   new  wine  of  Russian 

treading, 

165 


166      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  HUSSIA 

That  bleeding  feet  have  pressed ; 
Drink  to  the  life  of  the  nascent  republic 
With  all  your  yearning  flickering  desire. 

Alas,  Tavarish ! 
You  will  not  drink 
Even  one  toast  to  new  Russia. 
The  Englishman  aimed  well  — 
Your  English  brother, 
Toward  whom  you  bore  no  grudge, 
For  whom  you  gave  your  life, 
As  well  as  for  us  — 

Tough   Red  Guards  —  freezing,   and   starving  and 
singing  in  these  far  northern  swamps. 

Never  mind,  Tavarish ! 

For  you,  it  is  as  well. 

The  rigors  of  winter,  and  the  many  woes  of  Russia, 

For  you  are  now  done; 

And  the  Spring  of  no  country  and  every  country 

Already  is  yours. 

But,  Tavarish,  young  lad, 

One  enviable  thing  you  missed  — 

Perhaps  you  don't  know  — 

The  hearty  greetings  of  revolutionary  comrades, 

The  hail  of  their  swelling  songs. 

You  don't  know  how  gay  we  keep 

In  our  Arctic  camp,  Tavarish, 

With  a  hail,  and  good  cheer, 

And  a  drink  around, 


TAVARISH:  A  POEM  TAVARISH     167 

Of  the  Russian  new  wine ; 

Royally  hailing  our  republic  of  kings  — - 

Long  live  the  republic  of  workmen ! 


PART  TWO 
WHOLE  CLOTH 


WHOLE  CLOTH 

A   DIALOGUE    ON    POLITICAL   REALISM 

CHARACTERS 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH  STEKLOV,  a  professor. 

ALEXIS  PETROVICH  ZOLODEEN,  who  lias  come  to  man- 
hood during  the  war. 

PIOTR  VASSILIEVITCH  SEMYONOV,  a  judge. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD,  an  American. 

PAVEL  ANDREIVITCH  ALEXIEFF,  a  Russian  gentle- 
man; known  as  "  Pasha." 

NICOLAI  IVANOVITCH  SoLKOv,  an  artist;  known 
as  "  Chastleevy"  which,  translated,  means 
"  happy." 

BURTSEV,  a  waiter,  also  proprietor  of  the  cafe. 

CARL  MARDINBURG,  an  Austrian  war-prisoner. 

A  BEGGAR,  Guests  of  the  Cafe,  Men  of  the  Crowd 

outside. 
It  is  seven  o'clock  of  an  August  evening  in  the 

Zolodeen  Park  at  Nishni  Novgorod  in  1918.     It  has 

been  a  hot  day,  but  now  a  breeze  plays  among  the 

trees.     At  a  table  in  the  corner  of  the  veranda  of  the 

Burtsev  Cafe  sit  six  men  talking  animatedly;  smoking 

continuously,    and    occasionally    drinking    beer    or 

171 


172      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

fruit-water.  Their  conversation  sometimes  attracts 
a  group  of  listeners.  From  this  corner  of  the  cafe, 
the  veranda  being  high,  one  can  see  boats  passing 
on  the  river,  and,  now  and  then,  a  large  steamer  slid- 
ing impressively  into  dock.  Past  the  cafe,  on  the 
path  several  yards  away,  the  crowd  moves  in  two 
opposite  streams,  watching  the  war-hydroplanes  at 
their  evening  practice,  and  talking  vivaciously.  A 
barefooted  newsboy  enters  the  cafe  with  the  after- 
noon telegram  sheets.  ALEXIS  PETROVICH,  the 
youngest  man  at  the  table,  buys  one  and  reads  it 
eagerly  with  his  friend  at  his  left,  MICHAIL  SERGEI- 
VITCH  STEKLOV.  This  friend  is  a  striking  person, 
with  thick  white  hair,  kindly  wrinkles,  large  head, 
short  neck;  his  cheeks  have  good  color;  he  wears  a 
low  collar  and  a  dark-red  tie  that  becomes  him  well. 
ALEXIS  PETROVICH  i*  fresh  in  face;  he  has  a  slight 
figure,  an  oval  head,  abundance  of  curly  hair,  and 
small  but  perfect  features.  In  fact,  his  physical 
charm  is  such  that  he  is  always  listened  to.  His 
family,  the  Zolodeens,  had  for  years  distinguished 
themselves  in  the  Czar's  army,  and  young  ALEXIS  had 
from  the  outbreak  of  war  served  as  an  officer  of  the 
Guards,  till  in  the  second  year  he  was  taken  to  Ger- 
many a  prisoner.  The  youth,  as  a  wave  of  emotion 
passes  over  him,  looks  from  the  telegrams,  cheeks 
flushed. 

ALEXIS 

It  is   reported  here,  they  have  arrested  Prince 
Kropotkin!     Kropotkin,    Russia's    most    illustrious 


WHOLE  CLOTH  173 

apostle    of   freedom!     How   can   you   defend   this, 
Teacher? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

To  imprison  at  all,  is  to  infringe  freedom.  To 
restrain  any  man  seems  indefensible  to  him,  for  I 
suppose  he  has  his  own  ideas  of  what  he  should  do 
and  what  he  should  not  do. 

ALEXIS 

I  had  that  impressed  upon  me  this  morning  when 
I  went  out  to  the  Breshky  Hills  to  enjoy  the  view.  I 
found  a  fellow  lying  beside  the  road  in  the  cool  grass 
and  reading  the  editorials  in  The  Red  Journal. 
I  sat  down  beside  him  and  said,  "  Tavarish,  why 
aren't  you  at  your  work  during  the  middle  of  this  fine 
day?" 

A  BYSTANDER 

And  why  didn't  the  fellow  reply,  Alexis  Zolodeen, 
by  asking  you  the  same  question! 

ALEXIS 

He  replied :  "  I  worked  all  last  week  and  earned 
one  hundred  roubles.  May  I  not  now  enjoy  myself 
in  the  sun  and  in  the  wind !  It  is  right  that  I  should 
work  only  when  I  need.  But  here  in  this  paper  of 
The  Party  I  read  that  there  should  be  a  new  law 
compelling  every  man  to  work  during  every  labor 
day,  in  order  that  the  Republic  may  have  commodi- 
ties." So  this  fellow  in  the  sun  and  the  wind, 
Teacher,  was  thinking  only  of  his  own  freedom ! 


174       SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Every  man  makes  what  fight  for  his  own  freedom 
he  can !  The  rich  man,  however,  has  the  advantage : 
his  money  helps  him. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

But  it  is  a  cheap  freedom  that  is  purchased  by 
money  alone !  Surely  the  political  and  the  economic 
freedoms  are  not  the  only  ones !  It's  a  wise  man  who 
keeps  free,  free  from  wife,  from  friends;  free  from 
the  mire  of  books  and  papers ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Free  from  the  very  struggle  for  freedom,  free  from 
freedom's  catchwords;  who,  to  preserve  quiet  in  his 
own  soul,  is  willing  to  accept  certain  transitional 
servitudes  which  self -blindness  or  the  blindness  of 
the  times  thrust  upon  him. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

It  appears  to  me  that  you  are  all  talking  of  a 
freedom  that  few  people  are  interested  in.  A  free- 
dom in  essence,  philosophical  anarchism  —  and  here 
we  are,  back  to  our  topic,  Prince  Kropotkinl 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

{An  American  self-made  business  man,  with  many 
wrinkles  for  so  young  a  man,  with  a  firm  mouth  and 
a  piercing  eye.  He  lives  with  the  family  of  JUDGE 
SEMYONOV;  is  engaged  to  the  daughter,  Sara 
Petrovna.)  About  time  we  came  down  to  earth !  If 
I  am  to  be  up  in  the  air,  I  should  much  rather  be  up 


WHOLE  CLOTH  175 

in  one  of  these  hydroplanes !  How  does  all  this  dis- 
sertation on  Freedom  explain  why  these  blood- 
thirsty Bolsheviks  should  imprison  a  man  like 
Kropotkin ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

(A  quick  nervous  man  of  aristocratic  bearing. 
Possessed  of  a  wealthy  wife.  Has  traveled  much, 
especially  in  England,  from  which  he  has  just  re- 
turned. )  "  A  man  like  Kropotkin !  "  Yet  Tuesday 
night,  Frank,  I  think  you  were  mentioning  Kropot- 
kin as  "  one  of  those  gifted  but  perverse  philosophers 
of  disorder  that  should  be  banished  from  the  state ! " 
(All  laugh  at  Plaistead,  including  several  listeners 
outside  the  veranda.)  Kropotkin  and  some  of  us 
Social-Revolutionaries  suffer  almost  as  much  perse- 
cution to-day  as  ever.  I  tell  you  this  scum  of  the 
Proletariat,  by  putting  out  of  action  the  most 
trusted  leaders  of  the  revolt  in  Russia,  is  destroying 
what  opportunity  there  was  to  create  a  brilliant 
Socialist  state.  What  finer  leader  of  Russia's  revo- 
lutionary Intelligentsia  for  three  generations  than 
Kropotkin!  Did  he  not  spend  four  years  for  us  in 
the  fortress  of  Saint  Peter  and  Paul ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

It  seems  you  expect  me  to  give  reasons  for  Kropot- 
kin's  arrest. 

A  MAN  FROM  THE  CROWD 

Tell  them  the  reason,  Professor !  Down  with  all 
Princes !  Draw  the  blood  of  Counter-Revolution ! 


176      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Let  us  remember,  first,  that  it  is  only  newspaper 
report  that  Kropotkin  has  been  arrested.  If  it  is 
true,  I  am  sorry,  I  am  grieved  to  hear  it.  I  do  con- 
sider him  a  great  son  of  Freedom.  He  has  done 
valiant  service ;  he  is  an  old  warrior  whose  eye  is  now 
dim  and  whose  arm  is  weak.  But,  were  he  young, 
there  need  be  no  apology  for  holding  an  opinion 
different  from  his  at  this  crisis,  and,  for  acting  upon 
it !  The  freedom  which  Bolsheviks  fight  for  — 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Do  tell  us,  Teacher,  what  may  be  the  connection 
between  Bolshevism  and  Freedom ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

The  freedom  Bolsheviks  seek  is  a  narrow  freedom ; 
at  the  most,  but  preliminary  to  the  richer  freedoms 
in  love  and  knowledge  to  which  artists  and  other 
eager  souls  devote  their  energies.  This  narrow  basic 
freedom  is  social  equality. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

There  never  can  be  equality !  Some  men  can  do  ; 
others  can't.  Power  goes  only  to  those  who  are 
born  to  exercise  it. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Of  course  it  does,  Chastleevy.  You  believe  in 
force  just  as  I  do;  it's  the  only  thing  that  will  move 
Russians.  If  the  Bolsheviks  manage  to  keep  the 
upper  hand, —  prove  to  me  that  they  are  the  strong- 
est, and  you  may  count  me  with  them ! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  177 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Pasha,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  you  were  born  with 
the  shrewdness  to  discover  strength  and  ride  behind 
it. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

You  are  wrong,  Pasha:  I  do  not  believe  in  force. 
The  artist,  the  man  who  creates,  he  possesses  the 
genuine  power,  but  he  is  not  bigger,  not  louder,  not 
shrewder,  than  the  man  who  can't  do ;  he  just  —  I 
might  simply  say— —  he  just  loves  to  work  well! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Good !  You  and  I  agree,  I  think,  Chastleevy,  only 
you  didn't  wait  to  understand  me.  Of  course  men 
aren't  equal  in  gifts,  a  fact  my  "  social  equality  " 
allows  for.  Furthermore,  I  think  that  by  taking 
power  from  those  who  have  usurped  it  by  might  or 
chance,  my  "  social  equality  "  would  free  men  to  be 
more  the  masters  of  their  own  talents,  however  un- 
equal these  talents  might  be.  It  would  strip  a  man 
of  power  gained  by  appropriation  of  another's  tal- 
ent ;  it  would  appraise  at  its  true  value  the  "  shrewd- 
ness to  discover  strength  and  ride  behind  it."  Isn't 
it  true  that  this  shrewdness  which  exploits,  and  other 
qualities  of  a  second-rate  mind, —  agility,  trickiness, 
hardness,  mere  cleverness  —  are,  perhaps  as  a  rule, 
the  factors  that  determine  success  in  the  competitive 
capitalist  order? 

ALEXIS 

Does  what  you  have  just  said,  Teacher,  mean  that 
you  would  have  your  "  social  equality  "  replace  cap- 


178      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

italism?     Have  you  become  a  Socialist  in  becoming 
a  Bolshevik? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

I  suppose  you  are  asking  whether  a  Bolshevik  is 
a  Socialist.  I  think  that  there  is  many  a  Bolshevik 
to-day  who  was  not  a  Socialist  before  the  war.  This 
would  be  especially  true  of  western  countries  like 
England  and  America  where  formerly  Socialism  had 
no  standing. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

That's  true.  With  us  in  America  the  Socialists 
as  a  party  used  to  be  a  joke;  a  political  club  for 
unassimilated  foreigners ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

But  now  your  Socialists  are  not  so  easily  ignored, 
Frank ;  so  an  American  officer  told  me  in  London :  in 
some  places  where  the  "  foreign  element  "  is  large, 
the  Republicans  and  Democrats  have  had  to  combine 
as  "  Patriots  "  against  them. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Patriots !  Rightly  named  patriots,  Judge !  You 
must  admit,  Teacher,  your  red  friends  are  not 
patriots. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

I  admit  they  won't  let  their  minds  be  coerced  by 
certain  so-called  "  national  interests." 


WHOLE  CLOTH  179 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

I  understand  you  perfectly.  The  Bolshevik  is  a 
genuine  internationalist. 

ALEXIS 

A  genuine  internationalist !  Yes !  He  doesn't  go 
round  to  international  congresses  in  peace  times  and 
then  when  war  springs  up,  eagerly  join  the  fray 
against  his  former  fellow-congressmen. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

But  I  thought  the  Socialist  was  always  an  inter- 
nationalist ! 

MICHAIL,  SERGEIVITCH 

That's  where  you're  wrong.  That  only  shows  how 
much  better  it  is  to  think  of  the  Bolshevik  apart  from 
the  Socialist;  otherwise  you  become  confused.  To 
the  Bolshevik  this  war  has  brought  a  clarification 
of  the  social  problem.  He  is  so  thoroughly  dis- 
illusioned that  he  is  tired  and  sick  of  all  talk  of 
patronizing  and  educating  the  laborers  up  to  inde- 
pendence ;  he  wants  to  see  them  strike  for  independ- 
ence at  once. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Your  term  "  Bolshevik "  is  used  too  broadly, 
Teacher.  You  would  call  a  Bolshevik,  for  example, 
anybody  who  has  come  to  see  that  this  war  is  really 
an  economic  struggle,  and  not  what  they  say  in  the 
books  and  speeches.  I  don't  see  why  I'm  not  a  Bol- 
shevik within  your  definition. 


180      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

You're  not  a  Bolshevik!  You've  done  some 
straight  thinking  during  the  war,  but  you  won't  act 
upon  this  as  does  a  Bolshevik. 

JUDGE  SEMYONQV 
Well,  I'm  a  Socialist !     I  believe  in  social  changes. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

It  doesn't  take  courage  to  believe  that  much.  So- 
cial changes  are  really  unavoidable,  aren't  they? 

ALJEXIS 

I  think  the  Judge  is  much  under  English  influences. 
That  he  has  been  so  long  in  England  counts  for  some- 
thing, doesn't  it? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Oh,  Judge  Piotr  is  carried  away  by  the  constitu- 
tional bias  of  the  English  Laborites. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

I  certainly  have  my  predilections.  I  like  English 
advanced  labor  thought  because  it  is  so  sane.  It  is 
broadminded,  too,  much  broader  than  your  Gompers 
unions,  Frank.  The  statesmanlike  program  of 
"  The  English  Labor  Party  "  may,  by  its  very  moder- 
ation, enable  England  to  lead  us  all  in  making  these 
stupendous  social  adjustments  that  will  as  surely 
follow  after  the  war  in  all  countries  as  day  follows 
night.  The  "  Independent  Labor  Party,"  which  is 
a  component  part  of  the  English  Labor  Party,  is 


WHOLE  CLOTH  181 

frankly  Socialist,  and  some  of  its  members  are  so 
extreme  as  to  speak  kindly  of  the  Russian  Bolsheviks. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

All  these  moderate  Laborites  or  Socialists  entice 
some  of  the  upper  class  to  move  to  the  left,  and  win- 
them  as  adherents  without  making  too  great  a  strain 
on  their  pride.  For  after  all  is  said  and  done,  it  is 
not  a  very  pleasant  thing,  suddenly,  to  work,  cheek 
by  jowl,  with  men  in  a  lower  class.  It  is  like  break- 
ing caste ;  your  old  friends  boycott  you. 

MICHALL  SERGEIVITCH 

There  is  a  measure  of  truth  in  your  observations, 
Chastleevy.  It  is  painful  at  first  for  a  social 
or  intellectual  blue-blood  to  become  a  Bolshevik. 
He  is  self-conscious  and  uneasy  in  his  heterodoxy,  till 
he  comes  to  recognize  his  own  brethren-in-idea  both 
above  and  below. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

But  why  should  these  finest  of  the  upper-class 
minds  cease  to  officer  the  state?  I  want  the  state  in 
the  hands  of  the  best  men.  I  am  an  aristocrat,  you 
see! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 
And  so  am  I ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

I  have  doubts  that  these  from  the  upper  class  who 
unite  with  the  proletariat  in  this  crisis  of  the  war,  or 
immediately  afterward,  can  continue  to  work  with 


182      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  labor  people  in  all  their  social  radicalisms. 
Moreover,  if  the  educated  elements  leave  their  moor- 
ings to  enter  Bolshevism,  shouldn't  we  expect  the 
uneducated  elements  also  to  undergo  a  "  change," 
and  meet  us  half-way ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Certainly  the  lower  class  must  forego  any 
prejudices  it  harbors  against  members  of  the  old 
upper-class;  more  than  that,  it  must  work  side  by 
side  with  them,  taking  their  advice.  In  order  to 
obtain  firm  organization  and  control,  and  to  increase 
productivity,  the  proletarian  state  needs  the  co- 
operation of  the  trained  members  of  the  bourgeoisie. 
From  them  we  learn. 

ALEXIS 

But  I  hear  it  argued  by  the  Left-Communists  that 
if  members  of  the  bourgeoisie  fill  the  managerial  posi- 
tions, control  will  pass  from  the  hands  of  the  pro- 
letariat. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

I'm  not  afraid  of  that !  We  shall  not  put  the  cart 
before  the  horse :  the  driving  power  remains  with  the 
workmen. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

But  these  new  worker-rulers  must  work.  We  will 
not  divide  profits  with  a  gang  of  loafers. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Certainly,  certainly!  You  tell  us  your  artist  is 
one  who  loves  to  work  well.  Now,  if  the  laboring- 


WHOLE  CLOTH  183 

man  works  well,  why  isn't  he  fully  the  man  your  so- 
called  artist  is?  As  for  the  superiority  of  brain- 
labor  over  hand-labor,  hasn't  a  little  too  much  been 
made  of  that?  The  cabinet-maker  may  use  his  brain 
more  than  the  artist. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

He  may !  He  does,  often !  The  work  of  some  so- 
called  artists  is  mostly  hand-labor. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

And  there  may  be  more  skill  enlisted  in  the  running 
of  a  motor-boat  or  the  firing  of  an  engine  than  in  the 
teaching  of  algebra.  Furthermore,  the  quality  of 
the  laborer's  thought  is  the  quality  of  the  man ;  often, 
original,  fearless,  and  honest;  especially  must  it  be 
recognized  that  the  laborer  has  been  forced  to  think 
faster  and  more  independently  since  the  war.  In  the 
factory  or  in  the  trenches,  he  has  learned  something 
of  the  truth  not  found  in  the  modern  sociology  and 
economics ;  he  will  refuse  to  be  the  same  pawn  he  was. 

ALEXIS 

Few  share  such  an  opinion,  Teacher!  It  is  the 
common  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  workman  does 
not  think.  Perhaps  he  is  ignorant ;  nevertheless,  this 
very  ignorance  saves  him  from  some  of  the  mal- 
education  of  stock-schooling.  There  you  see  Smer- 
noff,  the  boot-mender,  passing  and  talking  in  a  free 
and  easy  manner  with  a  soldier  tavarish;  probably 
explaining  the  day's  news  as  it  has  entered  into  his 
mind.  Well!  I  have  talked  often  with  Smernoff, 


184      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

and  always  with  profit:  his  arguments  are  unpleas- 
antly blunt  at  times,  but  as  often  as  not  I  have  to 
admit  that  he  is  right  —  at  least  for  him,  if  you 
understand  me. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Smernoff  is  a  good  boot-maker,  too !  As  a  rule 
the  best  worker  is  the  best  citizen.  Any  Bolshevism 
I  approve,  must  provide  for  each  citizen  some  work 
so  hard  and  difficult  as  to  make  him  happy.  My 
work  occupies  me  completely ;  Tolstoy's  motion  that 
every  artist  must  raise  his  own  potatoes  is  not,  to  my 
way  of  thinking,  sensible;  when  I  am  confronted 
with  a  task,  I  must  work  at  it  steadily  for  days  — 
and  for  nights;  help  comes  to  me  off  the  edge  of 
dreams!  If  the  Bolsheviks  show  they  are,  in  any 
such  sense,  a  workers'  party,  not  shirkers:  if  they 
respect  the  happiness  derived  from  work  —  I  wish 
them  success ! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

This  is  one  of  your  serious  nights,  Chastleevy !  I 
hate  to  hear  your  talk  of  work.  It  is  silly. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

When  I  was  young,  I  thought  work  silly,  too;  I 
was  a  great  seeker  after  happiness.  At  first,  I  took 
it  to  be  what  people  said  it  was.  It  was  to  have 
this  or  that  fine  thing,  to  experience  the  pleasures 
of  the  flesh,  to  be  free  —  to  be  as  much  possible, 
free  to  do  anything  that  might  come  into  one's  head 
or  one's  friend's  head,  to  go  and  do.  And  so  I  went 


WHOLE  CLOTH  185 

on  many  parties  and  I  drank  wine  freely.  I  looked 
with  the  others  on  the  women  that  it  was  thought 
were  beautiful  and  gay.  My  father  was  rich,  but 
that  I  might  be  richer,  he  decided  that  I  must  estab- 
lish myself  in  business,  and  I  was  willing  to  do  that. 
But  all  this  time  I  was  interested  in  art. 
I  amused  myself  at  odd  times  with  sketching  and  I 
was  very  fond  of  visiting  the  studios  of  several 
artists  whom  I  knew.  One  day  I  was  admiring  a 
new  portrait  just  being  finished  by  Glubovsky,  a 
portrait  of  his  father;  the  portrait  said  so  much  to 
me  of  Glubovsky,  father  and  son,  and  of  other  indi- 
viduals, that  I  found  myself  saying  to  my  friend,  the 
painter,  I  do  not  know  why,  "  I  should  like  to  paint 
a  portrait."  "  Of  whom  should  you  like  to  paint  a 
portrait?'"  asked  he.  "  Of  myself,"  responded  I, 
feeling  as  he  did  that  it  was  a  very  curious  thing  I 
had  said.  But  I  painted  the  portrait  of  myself.  It 
was  very  poor.  So  much  pleasure  did  I  find  in  that 
labor,  however, —  pleasure  that  I  had  not  before 
known  existed  in  the  world,  that  since  that  time  I 
have  never  sought  else  but  to  paint;  I  have  never 
since  sought  pleasure  in  parties  and  in  being  free. 
Perhaps  you  will  say  I  should  not  call  this  painting 
of  mine,  work,  for  I  take  such  pleasure  in  it;  but  I 
do  call  it  work:  it  absorbs  me,  it  tires  me  tremend- 
ously, it  is  a  means  of  getting  the  best  out  of  me  for 
society :  through  it,  society  spends  me  and  keeps  me 
a  contented  member. 

And  I  should  like  to  see  that  every  one  is  also  spent 
and  happy  through  work.     That  is  why  I  think  I 


might  become  a  Socialist:  in  a  Socialist  State  it 
seems  to  me  that  every  person  would  be  most  free  to 
devote  himself  to  the  pursuits  of  his  choice.  No  boy 
would  fail  to  be  an  artist  because  he  is  poor.  If  by 
"  social  equality,"  Teacher,  you  mean  opportunity 
to  every  one  to  spend  the  riches  within  him,  then 
indeed  I  am  with  you  for  social  equality.  It  doesn't 
matter  so  much  to  me  what  you  will  do  with  the 
money  and  the  lands. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Doesn't  matter  much,  eh !  Chastleevy,  you're  just 
another  damned  communist ! 

FRANK  PLAJSTEAD 

After  taking  a  turn  or  two  about  in  Europe,  I 
don't  wonder  people  in  these  old  countries  talk  as 
some  of  you  Russians  do.  We  have  in  America  just 
those  opportunities  of  which  you  speak,  Solkov. 
And  young  people  have  been  coming  to  us  from  the 
oppressed  countries  for  a  century  to  find  oportunity. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

To  find  money !  Money,  I  take  it,  lies  in  the  way 
at  your  feet  there,  to  be  kicked  about ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Yes,  I  have  often  wondered,  too,  if  it  were  not  the 
opportunity  to  make  money  that  the  Americans 
treasure?  Do  they  really  believe  that  it  is  by  their 
money  they  are  free? 


WHOLE  CLOTH  187 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

But  I  tell  you  —  will  you  listen?  —  don't  insinuate 
that  lie  about  us  that  it's  all  a  question  of  dollars. 
What's  all  this  rot  the  Socialist  gets  off,  if  it  isn't 
mostly  about  money !  They  are  the  "  have-nots." 
Now  I  tell  you,  in  America,  we  want  everybody  to  be 
a  "  have  " ;  and  we  are  moving  along  pretty  well  that 
way.  Chastleevy,  we  try  to  give  everybody  a  good 
job!  Talk  with  any  Americans!  You  will  find  we 
are  content  with  our  country.  What  does  the  gov- 
ernment do  to  hurt  any  one  of  us  ? 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Hurrah,  Plaistead !  One  fellow  who  isn't  a  kill- 
joy* 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 
Put  it  there,  old  man ! 

(Shakes  his  hand.) 

ALEXIS 

And  do  you  Americans  fight  to  make  all  of  us  in 
Europe  content  with  ourselves  as  you  are?  You  say 
you  fight  to  make  the  world  "  safe  for  democracy  " ; 
what  is  this  "  democracy "  you  would  have  safe- 
guarded? One  American  says  it  is  providing  good 
jobs;  another,  free  schools;  still  another,  assurance 
to  the  aristocrats  that  they  may  choose  rulers  that 
can  rule !  And  so  it  goes ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

It's  all  that !  Come  and  see  what  our  democracy 
is!  We  are  always  glad  to  demonstrate  it.  You'll 


188      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

know  then  that  it's  worth  extending  over  the  wide 
world. 

MICHAIL,  SERGEIVITCH 

All  this  protestation  sounds  very  fine.  Only  it  is 
so  easy.  Do  you  know  that  our  Czars  have  made 
us  speeches  about  peoples'  rights,  and  that  some  of 
them  were  sincerely  meant,  too !  And  in  your  freer 
countries  politicians,  like  evangelists,  are  very  use- 
ful to  provide  the  public  with  appearances.  You 
really  can't  blame  us  in  old  Europe  for  having  our 
own  opinions  as  to  why  America  went  to  war.  How 
did  we  know  that  it  wasn't  just  because  you  had 
written  certain  notes  to  Germany  and  got  out  of 
patience  with  her  at  last ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

That  is  too  absurd,  Michail  Sergeivitch!  It  was 
more  than  that. 

MICHAIL,  SERGEIVITCH 

Yes,  I  suppose  so.  There  must  be  something  more 
than  hot  blood  back  of  the  war. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

It's  my  opinion  that  bad  blood  is  best  let  out. 
What  do  you  think  is  back  of  the  war,  Professor? 
Hand  us  the  anti-war  dope  of  your  non-patriots. 
You'll  recognize  its  just  weight  when  you  see  it  fac- 
ing you  cold. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 
The  cause  of  the  war  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 


WHOLE  CLOTH  189 

Red,  the  White,  the  Green,  and  the  Aquamarine 
Government  Books  —  that  much  is  certain.  These 
nationalists,  each  accusing  the  other,  speak  out  not 
even  an  image  of  the  truth !  One  set  of  warring 
powers  may  have  a  different  system  of  registering  or 
suppressing  the  popular  will  than  another,  but  it  was 
not  over  this,  exactly,  we  all  began  fighting  each 
other.  The  so-called  democratic  nations  with  whom 
Russia  was  in  league  certainly  did  not  press  it  upon 
us  at  any  rate,  that  we  were  fighting  for  any  such 
purpose.  I  don't  think  we  can  escape  it  —  the  war 
had  certain  diplomatic  origins.  Each  national 
group  of  leaders  is  struggling  to  maintain  as  much 
power  for  itself  as  possible.  These  leaders,  repre- 
sented by  the  diplomats,  are  the  money  class  and  a 
blinded  intelligentsia ;  and  as  the  war  has  progressed, 
there  has  emerged,  more  and  more,  class  feeling: 
there  has  actually  been  a  class-war  arising  out  of 
the  national  wars  and  staring  these  determined  lead- 
ers in  the  face. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 
Our  leaders  are  not  the  money-class ! 

MICHALL  SERGEIVITCH 

Americans  do  not  admit  that  their  money-class  has 
power;  it  may  have  less  than  the  money-classes 
among  some  of  their  Allies;  the  American  money- 
class  found  it  difficult  to  rally  the  whole  people  to 
the  war,  especially  the  people  of  its  Western  States 
—  so  Alexis  learned  in  Germany.  Wilson  provided 
the  high  ideals  sufficient  to  tease  the  people  into  war, 


190      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

and  he  was  ably  seconded  by  a  majority  of  the  In- 
telligentsia, which  jumped  to  the  war  madness  just 
as  the  Intelligentsia  of  England,  Germany,  and 
France  had  done.  According  to  reports,  the  war- 
hatred  enjoyed  by  the  American  ministers,  pro- 
fesors,  editors,  and  politicians  was  as  virulent  a 
specimen  of  the  species  as  you  would  find  in  the  older 
race-proud  and  race-hating  nations  of  Europe. 
There  were  a  few  voices  raised  against  the  un-Amer- 
icanism  of  the  war,  but  these  were  soon  hushed  by 
prompt  and  cruel  punishment,  social  or  really  penal. 

FBANK  PLAISTEAD 

Professor,  how  do  you  know  of  conditions  in 
America?  Surely  you  don't  trust  information 
Alexis  picked  up  in  Germany! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

No,  I  don't.  Any  more  than  I  should  trust  Amer- 
ican information  about  -the  Germans  in  war  time. 
The  information  I  rely  upon  about  America  comes 
from  talks  with  various  Americans.  To  be  sure,  one 
was  an  I.  W.  W.  and  two  were  Socialists,  but  the 
others  had  all  the  marks  of  American  aristocracy. 
One,  indeed,  supports  the  war  on  the  narrow  ground 
that  after  all  the  world  was  in  for  a  cleansing  by 
war,  and  America,  being  in  it  now,  will  be  a  weight 
toward  the  right  solution  it  brings,  which  all  radicals 
are  going  to  welcome. 

JUDGE  SEJVIYONOV 
That  American's  is  my  own  feeling  as  to  America's 


WHOLE  CLOTH  191 

object.  She  will  exert  the  right  influence;  through 
Mr.  Wilson's  fourteen  points,  for  example.  Cer- 
tainly we  Russians  will  find  America  our  best  friend 
at  the  peace  conference;  we  should  be  glad  she  is  in 
the  war. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 
Her  aims  do  go  a  certain  distance. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Why  not  take  America's  aims  as  the  best,  and 
cease  cavil! 

MICHAIL,  SERGEIVITCH 

Perhaps  they  are  the  best  Democracy  can  offer. 
We  welcome  them  for  what  they  are. 

ALJSXIS 
And  Wilsonian  "  Victory !  " 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

I  confess  I  don't  see  the  value  of  long  words  and 
philosophy  when  a  nation  fights  for  its  honor.  We 
fight  because  we  had  to.  If  when  you  are  returning 
home  to-night,  a  man  accosts  you  with  a  raised  fist, 
you  will  not  stop  to  inquire  whether  he  is  intoxicated 
or  in  need  of  bread;  you  will  strike  first  and  strike 
hard.  Plain,  isn't  it !  So  why  all  this  chatter  about 
the  money-class  in  America.  We  haven't  any 
money-class ;  that  is,  I  mean  to  say,  our  money-class 
has  no  political  power ;  in  fact,  it  is  so  powerless,  that 
when  it  becomes  known  that  the  rich  men  want  any- 
thing done,  the  people  get  on  their  uppers  and  vote 


192      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  thing  down,  no  matter  what  the  merits.  Look 
at  the  great  hold  Bryan  has  had  upon  the  common 
people  for  years,  simply  because  he  posed  as  a 
people's  leader.  And  as  for  an  intelligentsia,  Amer- 
icans would  laugh  at  you  to  hear  mention  of  such  a 
thing.  I  have  heard  you,  Professor,  carry  on  what 
a  mess  of  things  your  Russian  intelligentsia  has  made 
by  dabbling  in  politics;  you  say  they  have  failed 
utterly  to  understand  the  masses, 

MICHAIU  SERGEIVITCH 

Utterly!  They  are  like  an  insoluble  chemical 
floating  on  top  of  a  liquid.  The  two  bodies  have 
different  properties ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Well,  you  can  believe  me,  we  in  the  good  old  U.  S. 
don't  intrust  our  important  business  to  intellectuals. 
The  men  who  are  running  the  war  for  us  in  commit- 
tees down  in  Washington  are  not  intellectuals.  Our 
Government  is  run  on  business  principles.  Our  peo- 
ple prefer  a  good  sewer-system  to  an  oratorical  con- 
test. You  Russians  stand  at  the  street-corners  and 
harangue  for  hours;  we  elect  representatives  to  do 
our  talking  for  us. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Yes,  the  representatives  do  the  talking  and  the 
political  bosses  build  the  sewers,  receiving  commis- 
sions from  the  contractors,  their  personal  acquaint- 
ances. 

(All  laugh;  even  PLAISTEAD  himself.     He 


WHOLE  CLOTH  193 

has  BURTSEV,  the  waiter,  bring  cigars  which 
he  offers  around  the  table.  Each  man  ac- 
cepts one  except  ALEXIS  PETROVICH.  The 
lad  is  immersed  in  his  own  thought,  his  chin 
resting  on  one  hand,  the  other  hand  now  and 
then  getting  into  his  hair  and  rumpling  it.) 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

I  don't  see  why  you  need  to  despise  your  American 
intellectuals,  Frank.  The  English  do  better  by  their 
men  of  thought.  It  is  said  that  the  men  of  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  rule  Britannia;  that  the  Oxford 
Union  trains  for  Parliament.  But  with  you  Amer- 
icans, I  believe  there  is  no  great  appreciation  for  the 
man  of  cultivated  thinking  and  sentiment.  I  hesi- 
tate to  hold  your  educational  system  accountable 
for  the  banality  and  bombast  of  your  state  and 
congressional  representatives.  You  boast  of  your 
free  schools,  but  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  they  turn 
out  men  of  free  thought ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Well,  I  don't  think  we  should  care  for  your  Rus- 
sian specimens  of  free-thought :  loose  nuts  wrenching 
themselves  loose  from  their  place,  and  clogging  the 
machinery !  The  educational  system  of  a  Democ- 
racy should  turn  out  men  with  common  warm  social 
feelings,  men  united  in  heart  and  mind  for  the 
rational  progress  of  the  public. 

ALEXIS 
A  machine  that  turns  out  one  hundred  million 


copies  of  one  pattern,  all  thrilling  with  a  sense  of 
duty  to  the  rational  progress  of  the  public!  It  is 
your  university  man,  I  understand,  Mr.  America, 
that  is  often  most  banal  of  all.  His  school  loyalties 
are  ubiquitous  and  childish ;  they  consist  of  the  fond 
memories  of  his  club  and  his  football  teams ;  his  par- 
ticular college  is  for  definite  reasons  superior  to  all 
others.  The  classmate  who  is  not  interested  in  all 
this  boyish  controversy  and  self-congratulation  is 
looked  upon  with  suspicion.  Even  at  the  best 
schools,  the  man  of  cultivated  thinking  and  sentiment 
is  appreciated  much  as  is  the  man  who  makes  the 
prayer  at  a  dedicatory  service;  he  is  occasional, 
there  is  found  a  use  for  him  only  rarely. 

Taking  it  as  a  whole,  our  modern  school  system 
everywhere  reflects  pretty  well  our  economic  system. 
With  the  hardness  and  immorality  of  business  go  the 
hypocrisy  and  shallowness  of  school;  both  love  rule 
and  precedent;  business  has  its  own  reasons  for 
being  conservative,  and  school  has  its  own  reasons 
for  respecting  the  dictates  of  business.  At  school 
one  learns  a  thousand  proprieties  and  exactitudes  to 
observe;  the  excellence  of  the  national  regimes  past, 
present  and  future;  the  divine  right  of  the  wealthy 
to  own!  Once  this  scale  of  values  is  committed  to 
heart  the  graduate  is  generous  in  giving  advice  to  the 
unlearned:  he  knows  just  what  to  think  and  to  do, 
because  it  all  happened  so  once  before. 

Worst  of  all  is  the  pride  bred  at  school :  the  belief 
that  all  this  foolish  teaching  is  the  sum  of  all  that 
one  can  know,  and  that  if  one  does  not  persevere  and 


WHOLE  CLOTH  195 

receive  a  diploma,  he  will  never  be  an  associate  of 
those  holding  superior  rank.  Such  pride  is  a  mock- 
ery of  the  humility  of  the  truly  intelligent  man,  who 
holds  no  one  in  disesteem  for  ignorance,  alone  — 
ignorance  which  is  accidental!  Indeed,  the  ignor- 
ance of  the  street  and  of  the  work-bench  has  certain 
biologic-political  value.  Certainly  I  regret  any 
over-individualism  in  my  own  education  which  would 
prevent  my  making  quick  contacts  with  those  not 
trained  my  way. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Don't  worry  about  your  education,  Alexis. 
You're  a  boy  yet.  One  can  see  you  have  had  no 
experience  with  the  world.  It's  time  now  for  you 
to  break  from  the  leading  strings  of  Michail  Sergei- 
vitch.  From  him  you  have  learned  the  Greek,  and 
doubtless  well.  From  him,  you  have  taken  these 
theories  you  have  just  expressed  about  schools  —  and 
many  other  theories.  But  now  you  must  know  the 
world.  Have  some  fun,  the  fun  of  doing  things ! 
You  will  learn  the  real  secrets  of  living,  so.  Veritas 
in  vino !  Books  and  schoolmasters  —  with  all  apolo- 
gies (bowing  to  the  Professor) — are  a  weariness 
to  the  flesh. 

MICHAIL  SERGETVITCH 

Veritas  in  vino!  Pasha,  I  acknowledge  for 
Alexis  and  myself  the  jibe  you  toss  at  us.  True! 
education  over  wine-cups  is  not  the  worst ;  especially 
if  that  means  the  intellectual  advantages  of  sympos- 


196      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

ium ;  the  digestion  of  the  criticism  of  outspoken  com- 
rades. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

We  want  nothing  short  of  the  best  education, 
Teacher.  And  do  you  not  agree  that  if  we  provide 
this,  the  good  state  will  come  in  its  own  good  time? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

I  do  not  agree !  Rather,  I  say  the  new  education 
can  come  only  with  the  good  state.  The  one  must 
come  along  contemporaneously  with  the  other. 
That  is  the  way  I  put  it.  We  already  have  the 
"  best  education,"  bundles  of  it !  But  the  new  realist 
will  have  no  use  for  this  present  notion  of  acquisitive 
education:  a  teaching  to  possess  knowledge  like  the 
Chinese,  to  store  it  in  the  brain  for  exotic  emerg- 
encies ;  to  classify  and  to  catalogue,  arbitrarily.  He 
desires  self-education:  education  from  within,  not 
from  without ;  education  without  terms  and  holidays, 
without  dictatorial  designations,  without  prejudice 
against  training  the  hand  and  the  eye,  in  favor  of 
long  training  in  language  rooms.  The  social  invid- 
iousness,  embedded  at  present  in  the  schools,  is  an 
inevitable  reflection  of  the  society  in  which  they  exist 
—  this  society  wants  the  "  best  education,"  just  as 
you  do,  Judge  Semyonov.  The  new  education  — 
pure,  direct,  and  natural  —  cannot  exist  except 
under  a  new  social  order.  It  will  come  when  it  is 
wanted,  when  it  is  deserved.  The  Bolshevik  does  not 
want  bourgeois  education. 


WHOLE  CLOTH  197 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

The  Bolshevik  does  not  want  culture  taught  in 
the  schools.  He  refuses  to  employ  the  old  bourgeois 
teachers. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

The  Bolshevik  does  not  venerate  traditional  cur- 
ricula. The  concern  of  self-education  is  to  provide 
youth  with  stimulating  contacts.  Youth  takes 
unto  itself  all  too  quickly  what  it  finds  within  reach. 
No  one  is  proper  to  teach  in  the  new  school  who  has 
knowledge  all  laid-out  and  ready-made  to  fit,  like 
splints,  the  grooves  of  growing  minds.  The  citizens 
of  the  Bolshevik  state  must  be  trained  to  think;  a 
fortiori,  the  teacher  must  think;  a  man  will  not 
lightly  become  a  teacher  to  young  realists !  And 
since  the  stuff  of  teaching  is  imitable  human  beings 
—  the  teacher  teaching  himself  —  the  state  must 
select  teachers  with  the  greatest  care.  Certain  old 
bourgeois  teachers  do  not  meet  this  requirement. 
However,  they  might  still  be  employed,  if  only  out 
of  pity,  provided  they  did  not  seek  the  overthrow 
of  the  very  foundation  of  the  new  school,  the  new 
state. 

ALEXIS 

Yet  it  seems  incredible  that  that  class  in  the  state 
which  is  the  best  trained  —  yes,  even  those  men  of 
the  diploma  school  I  railed  at  —  must  not  be  the 
ones  to  depend  upon  in  such  a  time  of  the  nation's 
stress  as  at  present.  May  not  the  remedy  for  the 
shortcomings  of  this  class  be  some  such  revolution 
in  the  methods  of  teaching  young  aristocrats  as  you 


198      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

have  intimated,  teacher?  The  question  back  of  my 
seeming  conservatism  on  this  point  is :  how,  if  the  old 
aristocracy  failed  to  make  use  of  its  advantages  of 
superior  training,  can  we  expect  the  Proletariat  to 
profit  more  by  its  "social  equality"  training?  I 
suppose  the  answer  to  this  question  is  involved  in  the 
very  issue  we  debate :  shall  there  be  social  equality  or 
shall  there  not  be? 

MICHAIL  SEEGEIVITCH 

That  is  the  issue!  In  the  new  social  order  men 
and  women  will  not  be  counted  in  the  class  of  "  aris- 
tocrats "  according  to  their  inheritance,  but  accord- 
ing to  their  merits. 

FEANK  PIAISTEAD 

Professor,  did  I  not  hear  you  call  yourself  an 
aristocrat,  a  while  ago?  And  you  speak  now  of  a 
"  class  of  aristocrats !  "  I  supposed  the  Bolsheviks 
would  not  allow  classes  of  any  kind. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

We  are  becoming  confused.  Words  are  impeding 
the  progress  of  our  argument.  I  see  it  is  now 
necessary  to  give  the  definition  of  Bolshevism,  full- 
blown, and  then  to  trace  out  its  philosophy,  subse- 
quently, step  by  step.  Bolshevism  —  if  you  must 
have  it  shorn  of  all  the  consolations  of  its  political 
philosophy  —  is  the  instant  breaking  up  of  the 
present  class  system  and  the  establishment  in  its  place 
of  a  dictatorship  of  the  Proletariat. 


WHOLE  CLOTH  199 

VOICE  FROM  THE  CROWD 

Why  should  one  class  rule  all  the  rest  of  us,  Pro- 
fessor? I  am  studying  to  be  a  Felsher  Doctor,1 
and  — 

ANOTHER  VOICE 
The  Felsher  Doctors  are  forming  a  union ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

This  protest  of  one-class  rule  is  but  another  at- 
tempt to  evade  the  main  issue.  The  Proletariat,  by 
the  implications  of  Bolshevik  philosophy,  is  not  one 
class;  it  is  the  body  of  all  who  exert  themselves  for, 
or  contribute  to,  the  commonwealth  any  value,  mate- 
rial or  spiritual. 

VOICE  FROM  THE  CROWD 
Long  live  the  Proletariat ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

The  implications  of  Bolshevik  philosophy!  Phil- 
osophy? Fool-osophy!  Your  Bolshevik  thinks 
only  of  one  man  —  himself !  He  thinks  only  of  the 
moment.  For  long  views,  for  ideals  you  must  go  to 
the  intelligent  classes.  Bad,  selfish  people  you  will 
find  among  them;  nevertheless,  will  you  not  admit, 
Teacher,  that  as  a  class  they  are  capable  of  acting 
for  the  good  of  "  the  whole  " ;  that  when  they  do  act 
against  that  interest  they  are  generally  unconscious 
of  wrong  and  act  from  good  motives  ? 
i  The  Felsher  Doctors  in  Russia  are  men  nurses. 


200      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

One's  motives  are  generally  good:  nature  sees  to 
that! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Then  isn't  the  simple  remedy  for  the  present  ills 
of  our  states,  to  let  in  light ;  show  our  upper  classes 
the  larger  goods  they  have  not  hitherto  compre- 
hended; convince  them  that  the  difference  between 
them  and  their  unwashed  brethren  is  not  so  great  as 
they  have  thought?  Get  the  truth  spoken  —  your 
truth  of  history,  of  government? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

No!  The  remedy  is  not  so  simple.  The  class 
holding  the  political  power  to-day  cannot  see  things 
except  through  diplomatic  lenses.  The  younger  men 
in  this  class  would  only  in  part  receive  the  truth; 
many  of  this  part  who  did  receive  the  truth  would, 
like  our  own  Russian  intelligentsia,  refuse  to  trust 
the  lower  classes  with  the  truth :  rather,  they  would 
hold  it  to  themselves  till  the  lower  classes  should  all 
have  become  upper  classes  —  this  moderate  policy  is 
the  reverse  of  Bolshevism  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be 
an  impossible  one,  as  many  of  them  must  know :  there 
are  not  at  present  goods  enough  in  the  world  to  make 
all  the  low  like  the  high.  If  we  trust  to  the  enlight- 
enment of  these  present  rulers,  the  world  will  con- 
tinue on  with  the  present  injustices.  The  upper 
class  has  proved  that  it  will  not  act  with  class- 
unselfishness.  Therefore  we  must  give  up  the  illu- 
sions regarding  it  which  we  again  and  again  have 


WHOLE  CLOTH  201 

built  up;  we  must  remove  every  vestige  of  these  old 
class  divisions,  destroy  them  root  and  branch:  the 
upper  class,  economically,  must  become  lower  class 
and  share  material  power  with  all  men  and  women. 

VOICE  FROM  THE  CROWD 

We've  had  enough  of  our  money-lords !  I  say, 
sweep  the  house  clean!  Let  us  not  leave  past  dirt 
to  remind  the  new  tenant  what  a  pig-sty  his  house 
has  been. 

ANOTHER  VOICE 

Kill  the  stuffed-pigs !  We'll  give  man  for  man. 
If  it  is  to  be  a  war  of  extermination,  it's  easy  win- 
ning for  us ! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Your  Bolshevik  friends,  Teacher,  are  tracing  out 
the  implications  of  Bolshevik  philosophy;  isn't  that 
so? 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Michail  Sergeivitch,  are  you  so  sure  that  the  upper 
class  is  not  willing  to  share  power  with  the  people, 
anticipating  far  in  advance  their  real  capability  of 
self-government  ? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

If  I  were  not  sure  twelve  months  ago,  events  since 
have  made  me  terribly  sure ! 

ALEXIS 
What  events,  Teacher? 


202      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Fresh  history!  Affairs  in  Finland,  in  Ukraine, 
here  in  European  Russia!  In  Ukraine,  the  upper 
class,  though  badly  beaten  and  relegated  by  the  Red 
Guard,  was  determined  not  to  let  the  power  reside  in 
its  own  people:  it  refused  to  cooperate  with  them 
and  put  at  their  service  its  own  trained  abilities.  It 
preferred  to  coquet,  first  with  French,  and  then 
with  German  class-help.  As  for  Great  Russia's 
bourgeoisie,  I  say  only  one  word,  Miliukov:  for  his 
kaleidoscopic  performances  he  should  be  given  mot- 
ley to  wear!  In  Finland,  the  White  Guards  tri- 
umphed with  the  aid  of  a  German  army.  In  revenge 
for  the  presumption  of  the  Reds  —  by  all  accounts 
clearly  the  majority  —  the  White  Guards  set  out  to 
suppress  them  by  wholesale  imprisonment,  execution, 
exile,  and  the  harshest  measures  of  martial  law:  no 
meetings  of  workmen;  not  a  Socialist  organization 
allowed  to  raise  its  head  —  though  before  the  war, 
the  Socialist  Party  was  the  largest  party  in  the 
country.  The  White  Guards  of  Finland  did  all  these 
things,  they  said,  in  defense  of  law  and  order ! 

MAN  FROM  THE  CROWD 

What  is  a  White  Guard  without  a  Hun  or  an 
Englishman  behind  him!  He  loves  foreigners  more 
than  his  own  brothers. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Ivan  Leonivitch,  don't  exhibit  your  foolishness  in 
public ;  go  home  and  get  my  bath  ready ! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  203 

I 

(IVAN    LEONIVITCH,     servant     to    JUDGE 
SEMYONOV,  leaves  the  crowd.) 

MICHAII,  SERGEIVITCH 

And  here  is  something  to  bear  in  mind,  though  it 
be  unpleasant.  Finland,  though  small,  though  this, 
though  that,  is  not  a  peculiar  people :  its  Red  Guards 
are  like  lower  class  everywhere ;  its  White  Guards  are 
like  upper  class  everywhere.  Particularly  like  the 
situation  in  Finland  during  the  revolutionary  regime 
is  the  Great  Russia  of  to-day  under  the  Bolshevik 
regime;  and  this  let  me  say  unreservedly,  as  a  warn- 
ing or  a  hope,  as  you  prefer:  if  the  upper  class  in 
Great  Russia,  especially,  if  with  the  aid,  direct  or 
indirect,  of  foreigners,  overcomes  a  government  of  its 
own  people,  the  lower  class  will  mark  that  day  and 
remember  it  and  its  lesson. 

SEVERAL  VOICES  IN  THE  CROWD 
Hear !     Hear ! 

FRANK  PIAISTEAD 

Isn't  foreign  intervention  better  than  the  terror 
which  exists  in  Russia  to-day,  which  exists  right  here 
in  Nishni  Novgorod?  I  may  be  arrested  as  I  go 
home  to-night,  and  what  boots  it,  if,  after  spending 
the  night  in  jail,  some  commissar  informs  me  unc- 
tuously to-morrow  morning  that  it  was  all  a  mistake ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

The  intervention  of  the  Americans,  at  least,  would 
not  have  the  reactionary  character  of  the  German 


204.      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

help   to    the   Ukraine    and   to    the   Finnish   White 
Guards. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Why  say  intervention  of  the  Americans,  "  at 
least"?  How  least  are  these  intervening,  "non- 
interventionist  "  Americans !  Now,  God  knows,  we 
should  be  glad  enough  of  any  assistance  in  getting 
rid  of  these  Jewish  despots  of  ours  and  in  setting  up 
a  government  of  real  Russians,  as  glad  as  were  our 
brothers  in  the  Ukraine  and  in  Finland ;  but  why 
"  the  Americans,"  especially  I  If  it  is  because  they 
would  insure  a  "  democratic  "  government,  which  is 
their  specialty,  I  believe,  I,  for  one,  at  any  rate,  am 
sure  they  would  be  "  least  "  the  proper  nation  to  help 
us. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

You  confess  yourself  reactionary ! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Thanks,  yes !  What  decent  man  in  Russia  is  not 
reactionary  to-day ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Don't  take  any  stock,  Frank,  in  what  Pasha  says 
about  democracy.  He  belongs  to  the  "  Russia 
Party,"  which  has  the  patriotic  slogan :  "  Russia  for 
the  Russians."  By  Russians  they  mean  only  blue- 
blooded  Russians.  That  is  why  they  are  the  first  to 
cry  that  there  are  no  "  real  Russians  "  governing 
the  country  to-day.  His  party  is  a  back  number. 
We  Social-Revolutionaries  believe  in  a  democracy 
developing  gradually  into  such  socialism  as  the 


WHOLE  CLOTH  205 

initiatory  steps  prove  to  be  practicable.  Perhaps 
not  exactly  the  American  brand  of  democracy  —  we 
understand  that  you  are  governed  by  politicians, 
Frank ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 
We  have  the  government  we  want ! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

So  we  in  Russia  have  always  had  the  government 
we  want.  So  have  the  Germans !  They  will  have 
the  Hohenzollerns  as  long  as  they  want  them. 

ALEXIS 

By  that  kind  of  logic,  slaves  have  the  masters  they 
want !  I  don't  believe  the  Germans  want  the  Hohen- 
zollerns any  longer.  If  you  had  lived  among,  and 
talked  with,  the  Germans  in  the  later  war  years,  as 
I  have  done,  you  would  become  convinced  they  are 
going  to  develop  a  wonderful  democracy.  I  tell  you 
the  German  people  are  thinking;  they  have  learned 
their -lesson.  Certain  writers  in  the  Allied  countries 
have  expressed  pity  for  the  deceived  German  people ; 
well,  the  Germans,  in  the  meantime,  believe  the  people 
in  Allied  countries  similarly  deceived.  The  German 
people  begins  to  admit  it  has  been  deceived,  and  it  is 
struggling  for  its  own  kind  of  "  democracy."  The 
German  "  Social  Democrats,"  who  are  coming  into 
power  soon,  are  "  Democrats,"  pretty  narrowly 
"  Democrats."  They  have  no  use  for  Bolshevism, 
and  if  it  raises  its  head  among  them,  they  will  be 
willing  to  ally  themselves  even  with  the  capitalists  in 
order  to  fight  it. 


(The  people  of  the  park  are  in  commotion, 
all  heads  turned  upward.  It  is  something  to 
do  with  the  hydroplanes.  The  whirring  of  a 
motor  sounds  quite  near.  The  people  in  the 
cafe  go  out  into  the  park.  One  of  the  avia- 
tors is  practicing  a  new  feat.  From  his 
machine  he  lets  loose  a  flock  of  pink  slips, 
which  trail  down  on  the  wind  like  a  shower  of 
sparks  from  a  large  piece  of  fireworks.  A 
slip  which  fatts  near  the  cafe  is  picked  up  by 
a  man  in  the  uniform  of  an  Austrian  war 
prisoner,  standing  near  the  men  from,  the 
corner  table.  He  reads  it  to  them:  "Prole- 
tarie  vsekh  stran,  Soedeenaietis!  ";  Workmen 
of  all  countries,  unite!  The  Austrian  ac- 
cepts an  invitation  from  CHASTLEEVY  to  join 
the  men  at  the  corner  table  in  a  drink.  The 
waiter  brings  seven  beers.) 

BURTSEV,   THE  WAITER 

(Addressing  the  Austrian.) 

Tavarish,  I  wish  we  could  drop  some  of  them  pink 
notes  over  on  the  people  of  your  country.  Guess, 
from  the  reports  'bout  the  strikes  and  so  forth,  your 
workmen  are  most  ready  to  join  ourn. 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

(Large,  tall,  and  gladiatorial!  A  frank  blue  eye. 
He  wears  the  uniform  of  a  non-commissioned  officer, 
kept  neat  and  clean.  On  his  coat  is  a  large  iron 
cross.  His  Russian,  learned  as  a  prisoner,  is  better 


WHOLE  CLOTH  207 

them  PLAISTEAD'S.  )  I  am  not  a  Tavarish,  Waiter! 
The  first  Russian  Red  Guard  that  tries  to  fly  over 
our  territory  with  such  propaganda  will  discover 
that  we  have  excellent  anti-aircraft  guns ! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Perhaps  Herr  Mardinburg  is  one  of  these  "  Ger- 
man Democrats ! " 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

I  am  an  Austrian  Social-Democrat!  I'  am  a 
Socialist,  a  fighting  Socialist ;  I  have  been  a  candidate 
of  my  party  for  deputy  to  the  Reichstag.  We  will 
not  recognize  the  Bolsheviks  as  good  Socialists ;  they 
have  traded  upon  our  hard-earned  gains,  and  bring 
our  projects  to  bankruptcy.  They  block  progress! 

BURTSEV,   THE  WAITER 

What  is  "  progress,"  Gospadeen? 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

"  Progress "  is  approaching  the  state  of  Karl 
Marx.  We  Socialists  expect  to  win  our  battle  by 
negotiation  with  the  capitalistic  classes.  We-  have 
been 'struggling  with  them  since  1848;  but  at  last  we 
have  assurances  of  a  genuine  parliamentary  govern- 
ment; this  much  is  won  by  our  patience  during  the 
war. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

(Has  been  undecided  just  how  to  take  the  presence 
of  the  Austrian  titt  Ms  last  words.)  You're  darn 
hootin',  the  war  will  fix  you  people  up,  all  right! 


Just  you  see  if  you  aren't  rid  of  your  autocracy! 
That's  what  we  Americans  are  in  this  war  for. 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

Thanks,  we  have  not  asked  for  your  help.  We 
should  much  prefer  anything  we  have  got  to  what 
you  might  give  us.  Some  of  you  folks  who  are 
anxious  to  set  up  freedom  all  over  the  globe  had 
better  look  first  to  home.  You  in  America  are  the 
most  capitalistic-ridden  of  all!  Wages,  in  propor- 
tion to  purchase-value  of  money,  have  fallen  in  the 
United  States  during  the  period  since  1905,  seven 
to  eight  per  cent.  Sixty-five  per  cent,  of  your  peo- 
ple receive  an  annual  income  less  than  $200  per  cap- 
ita, and  have  practically  no  property  except  their 
clothes  and  furniture.  Only  sixteen  per  cent,  of 
your  wage-earners  are  in  unions.  Our  workers,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  nearly  all  organized.  We  con- 
sider it  important  first  of  all  to  present  a  solid  front 
of  laborers  within  the  nation;  after  that  it  will  be 
becoming  for  us,  perhaps,  to  rant  about  the  solidar- 
ity of  the  workers  of  the  world  as  do  our  Russian 
brothers. 

BURTSEV,   THE  WAITER 

Ah !  you  do  reckon  us  brothers,  then. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAI> 
My  German  friend  — 

CARL  MARDINBURG 
I  am  an  Austrian,  sir ! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  209 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Certainly,  Austrian !  So  much  the  better !  My 
Austrian  brother,  before  you  attack  capital,  why 
don't  you  first  interest  yourself  in  Democracy. 
Democracy  must  precede  Socialism.  Therefore,  in 
helping  to  establish  democracy  you  further  your  own 
cause.  Why  don't  you  workingmen  of  Austria  help 
the  Czechs  and  the  South-Slavs  in  their  struggle  for 
liberty  ? 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

We  have  struggled  for  the  liberties  of  our  brother- 
workmen  in  the  different  parts  of  the  Empire  long 
before  you  Allied  Democrats  became  interested  in 
their  lot.  But  we  don't  wish  them  to  be  separated 
politically  for  the  same  reasons  that  you  do :  separa- 
tion would  weaken  Socialists  of  all  parts  of  our  coun- 
try in  their  economic  struggle  with  the  Entente  Im- 
perialisms. If  we  are  beaten  in  this  war,  our  work- 
ing classes  will  have  put  upon  them  huge  indemnities, 
and  our  organizations,  the  best  and  most  soundly 
socialistic  in  the  world,  will  be  ruined.  So  it  is  that 
we  Social  Democrats  believe  that  we  fight  not  only 
for  defense  of  country,  but  for  defense  of  socialism, 
as  well. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

It  seems  to  me  that  by  your  attitude  you  Social 
Democrats  are  helping  to  ruin  both  country  and 
socialism !  You  are  the  instruments  of  your  ruling 
class,  which,  loving  country  as  little  as  they  love  you, 
yet  persuade  you  that  you  must  fight  for  what  they 


210      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

call  the  country's  defense.  Be  not  deceived;  it  is 
their  own  defense,  and  the  defense  of  their  "  system  " 
against  the  ruling  class  and  its  system,  in  the  enemy 
countries,  you  fight !  Your  capitalists  have  deceived 
you  for  long  by  keeping  you  workmen  in  different 
parts  of  the  Austrian  Empire  at  logger-heads  with 
each  other;  and  now  they  have  you  fighting  against 
the  workmen  of  other  nations. 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

But  we  have  nothing  against  the  workmen  in  the 
allied  countries;  it  is  only  against  the  imperialists. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Your  enemy  workmen  say  exactly  the  same  thing; 
with  a  substitution  of  the  word  "  autocrat "  for  the 
word  "  imperialist."  Moreover,  since  it  is  true,  as 
you  say,  that  your  workmen  in  the  Central  Powers 
are  the  better  organized,  it  was  on  you  that  we 
expected  the  new  light  first  to  fall.  I  say  I  am  dis- 
appointed in  you.  You  haven't  had  faith  in  your 
brother-workmen  of  the  world! 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

Our  brother-workmen  weren't  sufficiently  organ- 
ized. We  have  had  to  fight  for  them  as  well  as  for 
ourselves.  We  are  realists.  I  suppose  it  is  on  your 
Russian  workman  the  light  has  fallen! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Our  Russian  workmen  have  the  better  realism. 
They  believed  in  you  and  stopped  fighting  you. 


WHOLE  CLOTH  211 

That  was  a  piece  of  the  new  realism.  The  Russian 
brothers  did  their  part.  Why  didn't  you  do  yours? 
You  did  repudiate  the  Brest-Litovsk  treaty,  but  at 
the  same  time  you  have  continued  to  support  with  a 
vote  of  war  credits,  the  government  that  is  crushing 
us  with  an  iron  heel ;  you  continue  to  bargain  blindly 
with  the  oligarchy  that  is  shamefully  misrepresenting 
you  and  filling  nearly  every  one  of  your  homes  with 
mourning  for  needless  bloodshed;  all  for  sake  of 
your  will-o'-wisp  principle  of  negotiation;  your 
party  leaders  seek  narrow  party  ends ;  the  big  oppor- 
tunity to  lead  the  workmen  of  the  world,  they  fail  to 
see.  Many  in  your  class  and  out  of  it,  in  Germany 
and  in  the  enemy  countries  as  well,  are  ready  to 
work  with  German  and  Austrian  Socialist  leaders 
and  help  obtain  for  them  all  they  seek  and  more  — 
if  only  the  light  would  fall  upon  them;  if  only  they 
would  act  as  independently  as  they  have  spoken! 
But  lack  of  faith  paralyzes  them.  The  big  oppor- 
tunity will  be  seized  by  the  leaders  of  a  new  body,  the 
German  and  Austrian  Bolsheviks;  then  we  shall  see 
which  is  the  better  realism ! 

ALEXIS 

If  some  of  the  sturdy  people  I  know  join  the  Ger- 
man and  Austrian  Bolsheviks,  there  is  going  to  be  a 
revolution  much  better  executed  than  ours! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

But  none  of  your  thinking  Germans,  Alexis,  are 
going  to  become  Bolsheviks.  Indeed,  they  may  share 


their  privileges   otherwise.     I  think   better  of   our 
class  than  you  and  Michail  Sergeivitch  do. 

ALEXIS 

That  is  because  you  do  not  ask  so  much  of  it. 
You  are  content  that  it  should  always  be  looking 
after  itself  alone !  The  rallying  of  a  few  of  our  class 
to  Bolshevism  would  improve  the  quality  of  its  leader- 
ship and  change  the  character  of  the  movement  so 
that  some  of  us  might  unreservedly  cooperate  in  it. 
It  will  be  for  us  to  show  the  Bolsheviks  that  not  all 
rich  men  are  money-ridden,  and  that  not  all  uni- 
versity-men are  brain-warped ;  that,  to  the  contrary, 
men  of  the  upper  classes  may  be  of  like  passions  with 
themselves. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

"  Of  like  passions  " !  It  is  for  this  reason  of  like 
passions,  of  one  class  as  of  another,  that  I  prefer  the 
intelligentsia  to  rule:  they  have  no  more  weaknesses 
than  another  class,  and  they  do  know  something.  If 
the  mass  has  exclusively  the  power,  it  will  be  as  selfish 
and  as  narrow  as  the  Capitalists. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

It  will  be,  unless  there  is  a  new  counteracting  social 
morality  at  work  in  Bolshevism!  Bolshevism  is 
ruthless.  It  can  hardly  succeed  without  frightful 
and  shameful  wreckage,  poor  starts,  and  shoddy 
work.  The  naked  political  truths  with  which  it 
deals,  are  two-edged  swords  that  will  slay  the  careless 
wielder.  In  righting  economic  injustices  a  tempta- 


WHOLE  CLOTH  213 

tion  is  placed  before  the  opportunist  Bolshevik. 
Already  the  Proletariat  leaders  are  too  much 
obsessed  with  ideas  of  the  simple  transference  of 
wealth  from  one  class  to  another.  As  they  succeed 
to  authority,  they  must  be  warned  against  the  subtle 
abuse  of  power  and  the  insidious  corruption  of  riches. 
And  woe  to  them  if  they  betray  a  double  trust ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

I  don't  think  the  workers  will  double-cross  their 
fellows.  It  would  be  breaking  the  first  rule  of  the 
game.  The  difficulty  will  be  to  teach  the  new  game. 
It  will  be  natural  for  many  of  the  Proletariat  to  play 
according  to  the  rules  of  the  rotten  old  game,  which 
was  the  trading  of  favors  all  of  a  money  character. 
You  see  we  are  all  saturated  with  this  money  spirit. 
I've  nothing  against  rich  men.  If  only  they  would 
use  their  money  as  trustees !  The  damage  to  the 
commonwealth  is  not  so  much  that  some  men  have 
the  money  as  that  the  money  has  them. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

The  money  gets  into  the  hands  of  the  cleverest 
men  —  and  is  spent  by  them  for  the  good  of  all ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

It  is  all  very  well  to  talk  about  trusteeship !  That 
is  laissez-faire !  We  have  tried  that.  The  present 
social  stratification  of  society  is  the  result.  Some- 
thing contradictory  to  the  crudest  notions  of  justice ! 
We  must  try  something  else !  As  with  biological 
changes,  so  with  social  changes,  it  is  a  case  of 


214      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

"  must."  Those  blessed  by  the  amazing  inequalities 
of  the  old  system  "  must  "  give  way !  The  war  has 
hastened  that  "  must  "  many  years,  by  throwing  the 
truth  on  a  living  screen  of  dying  and  blasted  men. 
Our  generation  is  so  benumbed  by  commercialism 
that  we  are  unable  to  measure  just  how  much  com- 
mercialism threw  us  into  the  war  and  just  how  much 
the  war  has  pulled  us  up  out  of  commercialism.  But 
one  thing  is  evident,  we  have  a  guilty  conscience 
about  our  social  inequality,  and  each  party  is  falling 
all  over  itself,  proposing  immediate  reparation  to 
those  not  favored  by  capitalism  —  your  conservative 
talks  social  amelioration  as  loudly  as  the  next  man! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Teacher,  do  you  hold  the  opinion  with  some  that 
the  war  is  a  punishment  for  the  commercialism  of  our 
generation  ? 

MICHALL  SERGEIVITCH 

I  ought  not  say  —  I  am  of  this  generation,  my- 
self !  But  that  this  war  is  a  field  on  which  the  mov- 
ing spirit  of  our  present  civilization  has  found  its 
apotheosis  and  best  exemplification,  I  cannot  doubt. 
And  I  think  we  must  admit  that  money-making  plays 
no  insignificant  part  in  the  modern  spirit.  To  build 
bigger  barns  is  the  ideal.  Success  is  measured  by 
material  prosperity.  The  young  man  may  have  his 
visions,  perchance,  while  at  college.  A  year  out  of 
college,  he  sees  only  the  glamour  of  what  all  men  strive 
for.  He  hardens  and  nerves  himself  till  he  too  has 


WHOLE  CLOTH  215 

acquired  certain  goods ;  then,  in  the  degree  to  which 
he  has  become  "  successful,"  he  is  at  ease,  cushioned 
by  material  things.  And  having  employed  the 
boundless  energy  of  youth  in  acquiring  this  standard 
of  comfort,  he  has  been  delimiting  his  interests  till 
he  comes  to  a  point  where  he  can  no  longer  adjust 
himself  to  the  new;  ignorant  of  the  brave  secrets  of 
Youth,  he  despises  it;  he  becomes  conservative  at 
thirty,  say !  Out  of  the  men  schooled  with  these 
ambitions,  few  can  be  recruited  to  take  up  the  tasks 
of  the  new  political  realism.  Such  men  live  within 
their  own  so-called  laissez-faire  realism.  Talk  with 
these  men  about  it  and  you  will  discover  all  sorts  of 
odd  fancies  and  inconsistencies,  which  crop  up,  one 
by  one  —  the  more  particularly  if  your  conversation 
is  with  a  man  old  in  the  system,  who  has  been  unus- 
ually successful.  So,  I  say,  and  it  is  only  just  now, 
war-taught,  I  say  it:  the  present  class  divisions 
"  must "  be  erased.  With  surprising  rapidity  will 
make  their  appearance  new  class  divisions  according 
to  the  deep  natural  differences  between  men.  The 
present  division  into  richer  and  poorer  is  false  alto- 
gether! God  makes  men  this  and  that;  He  never 
makes  them  rich  and  poor.  He  never  fore-ordained 
it  that  some  should  be  blessed  with  power  and  oppor- 
tunities by  the  very  reason  of  being  rich  men.  • 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Surely  you  will  not  rail,  as  does  this  privileged 
press  of  ours,  at  the  Bourgeoisie!  The  Bourgeoisie 
are  the  intelligent  and  useful  people,  the  plain  bul- 


wark  of  society.     A  country  is  just  so  strong  as  its 
middle-class. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

I  hesitate  to  say  it,  Judge  Piotr  Vassilievitch ;  I 
hesitate,  because  you  will  not  understand  me,  but  I 
do  say :  "  Away  with  the  Bourgeoisie !  "  I  do  share 
with  the  Bolsheviks  a  hatred  of  everything  Bour- 
geois ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Teacher,  there  must  be  a  great  deal  behind  what 
you  say !  I  cannot  yet  comprehend  how  you  can 
think  the  thoughts  of  raw  men.  There  must  be  a 
great  deal  behind  what  you  say ! 

MICHAIL,  SERGEIVITCH 

There  is  my  whole  life  behind  it !  ...  I  say  this  is 
not  the  time  for  compromise.  Middle-class-ism  has 
failed  egregiously !  Let  this  war  be  its  last,  as  it  is  its 
consummate,  orgy !  The  Bourgeoisie  exemplifies  the 
concentration  of  pride  in  riches.  When  confronted 
with  the  necessity  of  a  choice,  it  prefers  Mammon. 
Almost  any  pride  is  more  sufferable  than  "  purse- 
pride  " ;  pride  of  country,  pride  of  strength,  beauty, 
or  mind  —  all  these  express  durable  values.  But  to 
sit  self-satisfied  with  the  possession  of  house  and  land 
is  of  all  abominations  the  most  damnable!  Why 
pride  in  house?  The  owner  did  not  plan  or  build  it. 
He  drove  a  bargain  with  a  good  architect.  Not  a 
slab,  not  a  stroke  of  paint  in  the  house  stands  to 
the  owner's  credit.  But  when  he  takes  another  rich 


WHOLE  CLOTH  217 

man  through  it  and  the  guest  enumerates  its  excel- 
lent points,  the  owner  expands  with  elation,  and  takes 
to  himself  the  glory  of  the  good  work.  Deluded 
fool !  the  echoes  in  the  wide  corridors  mock  him  for  his 
emptiness !  Or  consider  pride  in  dress !  The  lady 
has  taken  a  fashionable  dressmaker  to  counsel;  she 
has  procured  materials  of  high  cost;  she  is  lavish  in 
order  that  the  gown  may  reflect  her  station,  or  a 
little  anticipate  her  station.  Her  own  personal 
beauty  and  grace,  if  she  happens  to  have  them,  are 
mocked  by  her  vanity. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Riches  are  not  always  a  mockery  to  their  possess- 
ors. Rich  persons  may  do  for  the  public  what  it 
could  never  afford  to  do  "for  itself.  They  may  make 
of  their  possessions  collections  of  the  beautiful 
objects  in  the  world  for  all  to  enjoy. 

MICH  AIL  SERGEIVITCH 

But  who  appointed  these  persons  to  be  public 
benefactors?  By  what  justice  shall  a  Rockefeller 
or  a  Rothschild  give  or  withhold? 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

How  can  you  blame  the  rich  for  being  what  they 
are!  Why  shouldn't  they  control  their  wealth  till 
the  proper  time,  when,  by  graduated  laws  preventing 
great  suffering  to  the  innocent  rich,  excess  wealth 
can  be  distributed? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 
We  do  not  blame  the  rich  for  the  whole  system, 


218      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

nor  do  we  expect  them  individually  to  surrender 
control  of  their  share  under  it.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  when  we  come  collectively  to  abolish  inequal- 
ities, the  rich  must  not  expect  to  be  shown  favors. 
They  are  not  anaemic!  I  suppose  you  look  upon 
the  laws  forcing  the  Bourgeoisie  to  work  as  the  re- 
finement of  cruelty.  In  Russia  where  our  upper 
class  is  exceptionally  idle,  I  hold  such  laws  especially 
commendable.  They  impress  upon  the  Bourgeoisie 
the  reality  of  the  wiping  out  of  class  distinctions. 
For  the  laws  are  not  that  the  rich  shall  work;  they 
read  that  all  shall  work.  There  should  be  no  "  rich  " 
to  devise  "  fatigue-duty  "  for ;  to  legislate  for,  to 
graduate  taxes  for!  Let  there  be  one  class,  call  it 
what  you  will:  the  proletariat,  the  voters,  the  com- 
munity! When  there  is  only  one  class,  the  talk 
about  the  harmony  of  the  classes,  and  the  sweet 
dreams  of  the  union  of  capital  and  labor,  will  be  out 
of  fashion. 

ALEXIS 
You  would  have  capitalism  go  smash ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Abolish  capital!  Abolish  the  whole  blame  shoot- 
ing-match of  society  !  Impossible !  Even  your  sav- 
age owned  his  own  tomahawk. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

But  "  your  savage  "  didn't  own  the  hunting  woods 
nor  the  fishing  grounds.  It  is  the  possession  of 
capital  over  and  above  individual  need  that  I  mean 


WHOLE  CLOTH  219 

by  "  capitalism  " :  the  ownership  of  one  man  greater 
than  the  ownership  of  another  man  in  such  a  degree 
that  the  greater  owner  can  be  termed  a  "  rich  man." 
The  abolition  of  capitalism  does  not  mean  the  inter- 
ruption of  all  property  rights,  nor  does  it  put  a  tax 
upon  the  different  forms  of  saving.  It  does  not 
bring  to  an  end  the  classes  of  merchants,  bankers, 
and  lawyers ;  the  merchant  becomes  a  better  merch- 
ant, the  lawyer  a  better  lawyer ;  the  property  of  each 
is  handled,  however,  subject  to  the  new  understanding 
of  social  equality. 

CHASTL.EEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

H.  G.  Wells  says  that  we  are  not  to  tell  the  rich 
young  man  to  go  and  sell  all  that  which  he  hath  and 
give  to  the  poor.  He  must  keep  it,  rather,  as  a 
sacred  trust.  And  if  any  rich  man  is  not  willing  to 
handle  his  riches  as  a  trust,  he  must  surrender  it 
without  a  day's  delay. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVTTCH 

I  prefer  Jesus  to  Wells,  there!  In  most  respects 
we  cannot  improve  upon  the  communism  of  Jesus. 
Jesus  said,  "  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through 
the  eye  of  a  needle  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  the 
Kingdom  of  God."  There  is  no  reservation  made 
that  rich  meji  may  enter  the  Kingdom  as  trustees. 
The  language  of  Jesus  is  strong.  Such  language  is 
not  used  in  the  churches  to-day ;  the  gospel  has  been 
interpreted  by  a  commercially-minded  clergy  for  a 
commercially-minded  laity.  Seeking  to  commend 
Christianity  to  their  pew-holders,  the  clergy  have  it 


220      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

revealed  to  them  that  the  whole  sum  of  the  teaching 
of  Jesus  is  symbolical.  They  promise  their  Sunday- 
frock  congregations  that  their  personal  consecration 
to  Jesus  is  a  blanket  insurance  for  their  earthly 
goods :  it  does  not  matter  how  one  gets  money ;  only 
one  must  do  good  with  it;  in  so  doing  he  will  be 
rewarded  by  the  prayers  of  those  who  receive  his 
charity,  etc.  The  Bolshevik  takes  Jesus  at  his 
word ;  he  finds  the  religious  message  of  Jesus  all  cant 
without  a  literal  interpretation  of  his  social  com- 
mandments. Jesus  would  not  compromise  with  the 
rich  man ;  neither  will  the  Bolshevik !  Jesus  made 
his  social  teaching  the  beginning  of  the  wisdom  he 
would  show  unto  his  followers.  The  Bolshevik 
makes  the  creation  of  social  equality  the  first  statute 
of  the  new  realism! 

The  horror  with  which  men  look  upon  the  intro- 
duction of  social  equality  is  an  index  of  the  thinness 
of  their  blood !  The  rich  man  who  is  sincere  in  main- 
taining that  he  holds  his  wealth  in  trust  should  have 
no  fear  of  communism:  for  communism  is  but  the 
extension  of  the  principle  of  trusteeship.  Nor  need 
he  fear  he  will  not  continue  to  be  an  aristocrat:  he 
can  demonstrate  that  he  is  one  in  some  path  of  the 
spirit;  and  whatever  abilities  he  possesses  will  shine 
of  their  own  luster  and  be  recognized,  at  least  in  the 
fraternity  of  the  best  men  where  he  would  be  most 
proud  to  have  them  recognized.  In  Plato's  Republic 
the  leaders,  the  philosophers,  were  to  live  the  most 
simple  life;  luxuries  were  to  be  the  portion  only  of 
the  artisans  —  they  would  corrupt  the  best  men ! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  221 

Social  equality  is  as  essential  to  securing  the  richest 
life  to  the  best  men  as  it  is  to  securing  the  richest 
life  to  those  of  few  talents.  The  best  man,  busy- 
minded,  will  irk  the  distraction  of  the  sheer  display 
of  badges  of  distinction.  The  full  mind  is  not 
covetous.  That  those  both  of  quick  and  dull  mind 
should  all  have  stomachs  satisfied,  what  offense! 
Why  should  not  men  eat  and  wash  and  dress,  and 
otherwise  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  body,  upon 
terms  of  equality  ? 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

You  seem  just  now  to  be  saying  the  obvious,  Pro- 
fessor !  The  upper  class  is  willing  that  all  should  be 
properly  fed  and  clothed,  but  this  still  leaves  a 
goodly  surplus.  The  war  has  shown,  that  by  well 
directed  economies  on  the  part  of  the  people,  each 
country  can  amass  an  unbelievably  large  sum  for 
national  needs.  After  the  war,  as  before,  this  excess 
wealth,  call  it  capital  if  you  will,  should  go  to  men 
according  to  their  ability,  natural  or  acquired,  to 
use  it.  Of  course  there  will  be  injustices  here  and 
there ;  that  is  inevitable  under  any  system.  But 
prove  to  me  that  another  system  will  work  with  less 
injustices,  all  told,  and  I,  for  one,  am  willing  to  give 
it  a  fair  trial! 

ALEXIS 

How  can  we  know  that  a  system  will  work  till  we 
have  given  it  fair  trial?  The  conditions  upon 
which  you  would  welcome  reform,  Mr.  Plaistead,  it 


222      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

seems  to  me,  are  the  impossible  or  emasculating  con- 
ditions for  which  your  conservative  always  stip- 
ulates. For  my  part,  I  see  that  the  old  must  give 
way  to  the  new ;  I  am  persuaded  by  the  good  sense  of 
social  equality,  as  the  Teacher  defines  it ;  and,  further, 
I  believe  that  the  world  cataclysm  has  swept  us  a 
long  distance  toward  it.  But  I  cannot  see  my  way 
to  wish  too  violent  changes ;  for  example,  the  striking 
down  of  capital  in  one  generation.  You  are  a  great 
believer  in  social  evolution,  Teacher.  Now,  do  you 
not  think  that  social  evolution,  which  has  been  phe- 
nomenally rapid  in  this  century,  will  bring  the  full 
social  equality  which  you  describe,  naturally  and 
without  countless  suffering,  even  sooner  than  one 
would  expect !  The  strain  of  political  upheaval  has 
already  cut  thousands  of  individuals  off  from  their 
past  and  lost  them  their  happiness.  Should  we  pile 
misery  on  misery  by  forcing  extreme  steps?  Must 
not  people  accustom  themselves  to  the  new  order 
gradually,  in  the  meantime  not  too  much  pressed  with 
the  wearing  demands  of  the  new,  to  live  out  their 
lives  normally  and  joyously !  This  is  where  my  chief 
quarrel  with  Bolshevism  lies ;  I  suppose  it  is  a  small 
point  and  I  am  over-sensitive. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

And  this  is  my  quarrel  with  Bolshevism,  Teacher; 
not  a  small  point  at  all  to  my  mind!  The  Bol- 
sheviks look  like  barbarians  to  me.  I  fear  they  won't 
allow  the  beautiful  things  to  remain  in  their  places ; 
and  that,  worse  still,  they  won't  allow  me  to  continue 


WHOLE  CLOTH  223 

to  create  beauty  after  the  patterns  in  my  own  heart. 

MICHAIL,  SERGEIVITCH 

The  rottenness  of  the  whole  present  state  you  all 
admit:  Mr.  America,  you  would  patch  it;  and  you, 
Alexis  and  Chastleevy,  would  temporize  with  it,  give 
it  leeway  to  bring  us  again  on  the  rocks !  Plaistead, 
the  ship  is  beyond  repair,  I  assure  you ;  it  is  a  rotten 
hulk;  it  will  fall  to  pieces  of  no  force  at  all  in  one 
good  storm !  And  I  assure  you,  Chastleevy,  that  the 
destruction  done  by  the  Bolsheviks  is  of  the  ugly, 
not  of  the  beautiful!  The  beauty  achieved  at  the 
expense  of  unbrotherliness  is  unhealthy  and  false. 
If  you  have  the  enduring  interests  of  art  in  mind,  son, 
then  accepting  what  must  be,  join  in  the  Bolshevik 
movement ;  be  one  to  modify  its  character  your  way ; 
see  the  amazing  beauties  which  by  the  quickening  of 
all  forms  of  social  activity  it  will  call  forth !  As 
for  the  amount  of  misery  Bolshevism  brings,  I  assure 
you,  Alexis,  that  however  great,  it  cannot  be  com- 
pared with  the  amount  of  happiness  Bolshevism  will 
bring !  Look  out  on  the  path  now !  There  is  an 
illustration  of  what  the  Bolshevik  "  extreme  steps  " 
lead  to.  (MICHAIL.  SERGEIVITCH  points  to  a  young 
man  and  a  young  woman  slowly  sauntering,  arm  in 
arm,  past  the  cafe.)  There  is  Anna  Rudina  enjoy- 
ing the  evening  with  her  lover,  Nicolai  Novamus- 
chenko.  That  pretty  dress  she  wears  was  just  made 
with  her  own  hands :  they  say  she  is  very  proud  of  it, 
and  so  is  Nicolai,  too ;  it  is  the  result  of  lessons  from 
her  former  dressmaker ;  her  father  cannot  afford  to 


224      SKETCHES  OP  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

have  everything  done  for  her  any  longer.  Who  says 
she  is  not  happier  in  spite  of  her  loss  of  caste !  Her 
father  had  turned  young  Nicolai  away  from  the 
house  when  he  discovered  that  Anna  was  beginning  to 
care  for  him.  Poor  boy,  he  was  an  exceptionally 
bright  lad,  but  he  was  only  her  tutor.  Now  the 
social  gulf  fixed  between  the  lovers  has  been  bridged. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Now  he  is  our  distinguished  commissar  of  educa- 
tion. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Whatever  you  may  say,  Pasha,  there  are  those 
about  town,  even  in  the  Rudin  set,  who  freely  declare 
that  Nicolai  is  a  better  man  for  her  than  her  father's 
choice,  to  wit,  you,  yourself,  Pasha.  Come  now, 
Pasha,  shouldn't  you  have  been  glad  to  take  the  girl 
—  before  she  lost  —  caste,  eh ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

I  can  see  in  the  misfortunes  of  the  Rudins  but  one 
of  many  instances  of  the  economic  waste  and  ruin  of 
Bolshevik  rule.  And  it  isn't  for  such  as  the  Rudins 
the  misfortune  is  greatest;  it  involves  as  well  the 
Russian  workmen  and  peasants.  You  believe  me, 
gentlemen,  when  I  say  I  have  the  interest  of  the  work- 
men really  at  heart. 

BlTRTSEV,    THE   WAITER 

Yes,  we  believe  you,  Judge.  We  know  that  you 
were  a  leader  in  the  fine  work  of  the  Novgorod  Zem- 
stvo.  And  when  there  was  much  suffering  from  lack 


WHOLE  CLOTH  225 

of  work  two  winters  ago,  you  organized  a  powder 
shop  to  provide  idle  men  with  employment. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Well,  Rudin  was  the  citizen  who  contributed  the 
most  capital  to  the  new  powder  shop,  wasn't  he? 
Now  Rudin  is  a  splendid  fellow  for  all  such  under- 
takings. His  judgment  is  unerring.  It  was  he  con- 
vinced us  it  was  a  powder  plant  we  wanted:  he  said 
a  powder  plant  would  not  entail  exorbitant  initial 
cost,  and  its  output  could  be  adjusted  nicely  to  the 
amount  of  idle  labor  we  found. 

CARL  MARDINBUBG 

You  don't  mean  to  argue  that  private  capital  is 
the  only  means  of  solving  the  problem  of  unemploy- 
ment. Certainly  state  registration  of  the  unem- 
ployed, as  we  have  it  in  Austria,  is  a  more  thorough 
remedy. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

I  am  not  arguing  any  such  point !  I  merely  wish 
to  show  what  a  waste  of  community  wealth  it  is,  to 
put  a  man  like  Feodor  Rudin  on  the  shelf  as  the 
Bolsheviks  have  done.  There's  his  brewery  now,  idle, 
earning  a  living  for  no  man!  Almost  every  one  of 
our  factories  has  been  crippled  or  absolutely  ruined 
by  these  tavarishes ! 

ALEXIS 

Nonsense,  Judge,  not  so  bad  as  all  that!  Don't 
blame  the  Bolsheviks  for  all  of  the  disorganization; 


226      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

it  began  under  the  old  regime;  no  one  reckons  just 
how  far  the  old  crowd  brought  the  country  to  its 
last  legs!  Rudin's  brewery  was  already  running 
down  by  the  time  of  Kerensky.  Anyway,  the  Bol- 
sheviks have  closed  all  the  breweries  and  distilleries 
on  principle ;  and  I'm  glad  of  it. 

CHASTLJEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

And  I  don't  like  the  principle!  Good  wine  never 
harmed  me. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

This  cafe  here,  one  of  Rudin's  smaller  undertak- 
ings, is  not  suffering  under  Bolshevik  management: 
we  would  all  agree  that  Burtsev  does  very  well  with 
the  place  since  his  elevation  from  head-waiter  to 
proprietor.  Make  money,  too,  don't  you,  Burtsev? 

BURTSEV,  THE  WAITER 

(Being  free  for  a  time  from  the  needs  of  customers, 
has  drawn  a  chair  up  to  the  table.  He  is  an  active 
little  animal  of  twenty-five.  He  limps  from  a  wound 
received  in  the  war.  His  snappy  black  eyes  show 
anger  or  pleasure  quickly.)  Oh,  I  have  no  kick 
coming!  I  have  got  married,  and  Marsha  and 
I,  together,  live  better  than  I  ever  did,  alone.  If 
I  do  say  it,  the  cafe  is  as  well  managed  as  before. 
But  there's  The  Metropole,  Rudin's  large  restau- 
rant up-town,  that  the  waiters  are  running  poorly. 
Vladimir,  who  was  head-cook,  doesn't  know  enough 
to  run  a  restaurant.  He  doesn't  understand  buying, 
he  charges  too  little,  and  he  allows  the  place  to  go 


WHOLE  CLOTH  227 

looking  like  a  kitchen.  He  tries  hard  to  make  a 
success  of  his  new  responsibilities,  but  he  and  his 
wife  are  not  so  well  off  as  before  —  and  they  have 
more  children.  Vladimir  told  me  yesterday  that  he 
intends  going  to  Broderensk,  Rudin's  old  manager, 
for  advice ;  I  think  it  would  be  better  if  he  gave  over 
to  young  Leonid  Petrovich,  the  clerk.  Petrovich 
after  a  little  would  be  able  to  run  a  good  restaurant, 
even  one  so  fine  as  that  The  Metropole  used  to  be. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Man,  aren't  you  sensible  enough  to  see  that  society 
cannot  afford  experiments  made  by  these  second-rate 
leaders !  Society  is  most  prosperous  when  indi- 
viduals are  subordinated  on  an  ascending  scale. 
Bolshevism  turns  things  upside  down,  puts  men  of 
inferior  abilities  on  top.  In  any  political  realism 
I  recognize,  men  must  take  the  places  assigned  them 
by  ability.  I  confess  I  don't  understand  the  Teach- 
er's new  realism ;  it  is  Utopian  fantasy,  I  think ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 
I  understand  realism  not  at  all,  either  old  or  new ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Though  skeptical  of  futuristic  realism,  Teacher, 
do  not  put  me  down  as  the  friend  of  unregenerate 
laissez-faire.  As  a  Socialist,  I  believe  in  many  modi- 
fications of  the  natural  competition  in  business.  I 
advocate  wiping  out  the  present  injustice  in  the 
distribution  of  wealth.  The  right  to  inherit  I  would 
leave  only  to  dependents ;  unearned  increment  I  would 


228      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

prevent  altogether.  I  advocate  the  utmost  publicity 
in  the  dealings  of  all  nations,  large  businesses,  and 
organizations  of  a  public  nature.  But,  after  all 
are  given  a  fair  chance  and  a  fair  start,  a  field  where 
there  is  no  underhanded  dealing,  no  speculation 
markets  and  fraudulent  advertising, —  then  I  say  let 
individual  competition  reign,  and  reveal  what  return 
individuality,  and  special  aptitude  and  training, 
will  give! 

MICHAIL,  SEEGEIVITCH 

These  measures  you  Social-Revolutionaries  pro- 
pose differ  from  Bolshevism  only  in  degree  and  in 
the  ardor  and  in  the  method  with  which  they  are  to 
be  prosecuted.  You  would  have  publicity  of  a 
defined  sort:  in  the  dealings  of  nations,  large  busi- 
nesses, and  semi-public  organizations.  The  new 
realism  would  have  thrown  on  every  department  of 
human  life  and  relations  without  limitation  the  glow- 
ing light  of  science :  testing,  weighing  and  comparing 
human  valuations  with  infinite  patience  and  utter 
lack  of  bias.  For  example,  you  say,  Judge,  you 
would  grant  the  right  to  inherit  to  dependents  only. 
The  new  social  science  would  want  to  inquire  further 
about  these  "  dependents." 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Absurd!  That  a  man  may  not  leave  behind  to 
his  family  what  he  has  hard-earned.  What  incentive 
to  work  would  remain,  pray  ? 


WHOLE  CLOTH  229 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Don't  worry,  Mr.  America;  your  prospective 
father-in-law,  Judge  Semyonov,  will  arrange  to  have 
you  and  Sara  Petrovna  counted  as  "  dependents." 
Anyway,  Mamma  Semyonov  is  not  subject  to  any  of 
these  new  theories,  she  will  not  scruple  to  leave  her 
only  child  everything. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Your  watchword,  "  Let  individual  competition 
reign,"  right  enough,  belongs  to  the  old  realism, 
Judge,  argue  as  you  will  it  doesn't.  To  say  that 
competition  is  ordained  by  nature  because  found  in 
the  present  economic  system  as  it  has  gained  head- 
way and  taken  its  own  course  of  development,  is 
unfair  to  nature:  the  only  natural  thing  about  this 
system  is  its  own  cussed  nature!  It  is  unfair  to 
say,  when  by  certain  laws  of  dollar-dom  one  dollar 
becomes  two,  that  this  is  human  nature.  The  new 
realism  tries  by  looking  behind  the  facts  to  see  what 
human  nature  is. 

ALEXIS 

Yes,  it  is  much  easier  to  see  statistics  and  trade 
balances  than  to  see  human  facts  —  to  see,  for  exam- 
ple, that  the  boy  in  the  shop  is  contracting  tuberculo- 
sis owing  to  the  needlessly  unsanitary  character  of 
his  work.  The  defender  of  the  old  system  says  the 
system  is  made  to  fit  human  nature;  it  seems  to  me 
that,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  case  of  human  nature 
being  made  to  fit  The  System:  The  System  takes 
human  nature  as  a  raw  product,  and  keeps  it  raw. 


230      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

Your  old-system  man  relies  on  the  principles  of 
simple,  unenlarged,  animal  biology,  to  prove  any 
thesis,  be  it  in  the  realm  of  politics,  of  economics, 
or  of  philosophy;  with  his  theory  of  competition  he 
explains  all  progress  in  the  past ;  without  competition 
in  the  future,  he  says,  all  will  be  waste  and  deteriora- 
tion. He  ignores  what  part  cooperation  plays 
in  the  development  of  human  habits ;  he  ignores, 
also,  the  fact  that  really  intensive  studies  in  the 
psychology  of  collective  feeling  and  thinking  are  yet 
to  be  made.  There  comes  to  my  mind  one  of  Chast- 
leevy's  stories  that  shows  well  with  what  blind- 
ness and  misplaced  emphasis  people  are  likely  to 
work  out  survival  laws.  Tell  us,  Chastleevy,  about 
the  Suhona  peasant  woman's  kasha ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 
Teacher,  I  don't  just  see  the  bearing  of  that  story ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Anyway,  you  tell  it,  Chastleevy,  and  I'll  explain 
the  bearing! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Well!  This  is  the  story  of  an  experience  out  in 
the  Suhona  district  one  summer  when  I  was  visiting 
my  friend  Dmitri  Constantinovich  Krai.  Dmitri 
and  I  were  riding  horseback  over  his  estate  one 
bright  morning.  The  green  river  hills  were  cutting 
the  blue  sky  sharply,  and  white  fleecy  clouds  were 
sailing  through  the  heaven  as  if  just  to  add  comfort 
and  completeness  to  the  picturesque  landscape.  We 


WHOLE  CLOTH  231 

came  on  the  river  road  to  a  little  cottage,  surrounded 
by  out-buildings  of  thatch,  which  was  a  favorite 
stopping-place  with  Dmitri.  The  peasant's  children 
gathered  round  us,  and  Dmitri  Constantinovich, 
patting  them  on  the  head,  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
box  of  sweets  and  gave  it  to  a  curly-headed  daughter 
whose  madonna  face  still  hangs  in  my  mind.  Then 
arrived  the  busy  housewife  and  invited  us  inside  to 
drink  tea.  We  accepted  the  invitation  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  and  I  tasted  the  finest  kasha  I  had 
ever  known.  "  Your  kasha  is  excellent,"  I  said  to 
the  housewife ;  "  tell  me,  please,  how  you  manage  to 
cook  it  so  tastily !  " 

"  It  is  not  the  cooking,  sir,"  she  replied  with  a 
smile,  "  it  is  the  grain  which  is  excellent." 

"  Tell  my  friend,"  interposed  Dmitri  Constan- 
tinovich, "  how  it  is  you  grow  such  excellent  grain." 
So  she  told  me. 

"  For  many  years,"  she  began,  "  it  was  my  man's 
custom  to  pick  the  largest  kernels  as  seed  grain  on 
our  own  strips.  He  thought  in  this  way  he  would 
improve  the  quality  of  the  crops  from  year  to  year. 
And  sure  enough,  every  year  the  kernels  were  larger 
and  larger,  and  my  man  thought  how  clever  he  was : 
his  grain  kernels  were  larger  than  any  in  the  dis- 
trict. But  I  was  not  so  pleased.  I  did  not  like  the 
large  kernels  to  eat.  I  found  it  more  and  more 
difficult  to  make  tasty  kasha.  So  I  said  to  my  man 
Gabriel :  *  Gabriel,  I  do  not  like  your  large  kernels ! 
I  would  rather  have  them  small  and  tasty.  Choose 
this  year  for  our  seed  grain  from  lots  which  make 


232      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  tastiest  kasha.'  Gabriel  in  matters  of  cooking 
never  disputed  me;  he  heeded  me,  and  planted  the 
seed  which  I  had  selected.  And  the  next  spring  he 
did  likewise,  and  so  on,  till  now  our  kasha  is  the 
tastiest  kasha  that  you  will  eat  in  the  whole  dis- 
trict." 

And  now,  good  Teacher,  I  leave  it  to  you  to  explain 
the  parable  of  the  Suhona  peasant  woman  and  the 
small  and  the  large  kernels ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

The  story  illustrates  the  folly  of  supporting  pleas- 
ing points  in  view  in  politics  by  the  theory  of  compe- 
tition. It  is  begging  the  question.  It  is  confusing 
ends  with  means.  To  argue  that  the  man  who  is 
richest,  who  is  biggest  for  the  number  of  barns  he 
owns,  is  the  best;  to  argue  that  the  man  won  in  a 
fair  competition,  therefore  he  must  have  the  brains, 
he  ought  to  succeed;  that  there  is  some  justice  in 
his  obtaining  power  over  others, —  may  be  syllogistic, 
but  it  does  not  get  us  anywhere! 

ALEXIS 

What  you  say,  Teacher,  puts  me  in  mind  of  cer- 
tain views  expressed  in  a  book  I  have  at  the  moment 
in  my  pocket,  a  piece  of  the  dead  propaganda  matter 
which  the  agents  of  the  different  nationalisms  have 
struck  off  by  the  thousands  of  copies  and  distributed 
broadcast  in  Russia,  especially  during  the  Kerensky 
days  —  President  Wilson's  "  The  New  Freedom." 
Let  me  read  a  few  passages  I  have  marked.  (He 


WHOLE  CLOTH  233 

draws  from  his  pocket  a  pamphlet  with  closely  printed 
lines,  and  reads,  interpolating  explanations.) 

"  All  the  fair  competition  you  choose,  but  no  unfair 
competition  of  any  kind.  And  then  when  unfair  compe- 
tition is  eliminated,  let  us  see  these  gentlemen  [the  trust 
magnates]  carry  their  tanks  of  water  on  their  backs. 
All  that  I  ask  and  all  that  I  shall  fight  for  [Wilson  re- 
fers here  to  the  campaign  he  was  waging  for  the  presi- 
dency] is  that  they  shall  come  into  the  field  against  merit 
and  brains  everywhere.  If  they  can  beat  other  Ameri- 
can brains,  then  they  have  got  the  best  brains. 

"  I  know,  and  every  man  in  his  heart  knows,  that  the 
only  way  to  enrich  America  is  to  make  it  possible  for  any 
man  who  has  the  brains  to  get  into  the  game.  I  am  not 
jealous  of  any  business  that  has  grown  to  that  size 
['  grown'  is  his  italics].  I  am  not  jealous  of  any  proc- 
ess of  growth,  no  matter  how  huge  the  result,  provided 
the  result  was  indeed  obtained  by  the  processes  of  whole- 
some growth,  which  are  indeed  the  processes  of  efficiency, 
of  economy,  of  intelligence,  of  invention. 

"  In  New  Jersey  [the  name  of  a  state  in  which  Wilson 
either  was  at  the  time,  or  had  been,  governor,  I  take 
it]  ...  the  corporations  involved  opposed  the  legisla- 
tion with  all  their  might.  They  talked  about  ruin  — 
and  I  really  believe  they  did  think  they  would  be  some- 
what injured.  But  they  have  not  been.  And  I  hear,  I 
cannot  tell  you  how  many,  men  in  New  Jersey  say: 
'  Governor,  we  were  opposed  to  you;  we  did  not  believe 
in  the  things  you  wanted  to  do,  but  now  that  you  have 
done  them,  we  take  off  our  hats.  That  was  the  thing  to 
do,  it  did  not  hurt  us  a  bit;  it  just  put  us  on  a  normal 
footing;  it  took  away  suspicion  from  our  business.'  New 
Jersey,  having  taken  the  cold  plunge,  cries  out  to  the 
rest  of  the  states,  '  Come  on  in !  The  water's  fine ! '  I 
wonder  whether  these  men  who  are  controlling  the  United 
States  realize  how  they  are  creating  every  year  a  thick- 


234.      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

ening  atmosphere  of  suspicion,  in  which  presently  they 
will  find  that  business  cannot  breathe?  " 

There  you  have  the  democratic  view.  Only  bring 
things  out  into  the  light!  Publish  income  and  tax 
statistics!  It  is  not  the  actual  injustice  that  the 
people  mind ;  it  is  that  they  are  not  acquainted  with 
the  fact  of  the  existence  of  injustice.  This  is  not 
different  in  kind  from  the  competition  idealized  by 
the  German  historians  and  philosophers. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 
They  preach  realism  of  a  very  gross  sort! 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

How  much  grosser  than  the  realism  practiced  by 
the  Entente  diplomats,  who  have  been  deliberately 
stifling  the  legitimate  desires  of  the  Germans  for 
colonies?  The  French  militarists  used  the  influence 
of  the  English  and  Russian  governments  to  frighten 
Germany  into  acquiescence  in  the  designs  of  French 
capitalists  on  Morocco. 

ALEXIS 

You  German  and  Austrian  Socialists  should  have 
known  that  the  English  are  not  all  Milners,  nor  the 
French  all  militarists! 

CARL  MARDINBTTRG 

But  all  the  French  and  English  and  Russians  who 
counted  were  capitalists ;  it  was  our  capitalists  that 
they  were  attempting  to  defeat,  to  be  sure:  these 
are  all  facts!  But  how  else  could  you  expect  our 


WHOLE  CLOTH  235 

Socialists  to  express  their  fact  than  first  to  help  our 
capitalism  conquer  the  other  capitalisms,  and  then 
to  conquer  it! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

But  you  so-called  German  Democrats  never  saw 
the  fact  of  the  United  States.  We  offered  you  a 
court  of  international  justice  where  you  might  stand 
and  plead  your  case. 

CARL,  MARDINBURG 

We  did  see  the  "  fact "  of  the  United  States,  we 
came  to  see  it  as  a  fact  auxiliary  to  the  English- 
French  fact.  You  Americans  refused  to  keep  court. 
This  was  because  you  also  had  a  System,  which  was 
disturbed  by  the  split  in  the  European  System. 
Since  the  war  with  Spain,  your  capitalists  have  aimed 
at  the  expansion  of  their  democracy  into  something 
—  like  imperialism ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Something  like  the  Athenian  hegemony  of  the 
Americans !  Cuba,  Panama,  Haiti,  Nicaragua,  and 
Mexico  are  to  form  a  Delian  Confederacy  for  the 
United  States! 

ALEXIS 

The  great  crime  all  these  Nationalists  commit  is 
that  they  lay  so  much  stress  upon  the  superiority  of 
the  man  of  their  own  race,  language  and  culture,  to 
lead  the  procession! 


MICHAIL  SERGETVTTCH 

It's  more  than  that,  Alexis !  The  Nationalist  not 
only  says  his  countrymen  are  superior  —  but  he  also 
makes  this  an  excuse  to  grab  for  his  country  what- 
ever may  make  it  richer! 

The  Bolshevik  realism  allows  for  startling  differ- 
ences between  the  German  and  the  American,  between 
the  Englishman  and  the  Russian;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  stresses  the  fact  of  unity,  the  common  interests : 
it  allows  for  the  development  of  separate  cultures, 
but  it  stresses  the  fact  that  great  literature  and 
great  art  are  universal;  the  great  masterpieces  are 
translated  into  every  language.  The  Bolshevik  prin- 
ciple of  open  diplomacy  is  an  accounting  of  this  sort 
of  fact;  if  one  people  knows  what  the  honest  claims 
and  needs  of  another  people  are,  misunderstandings 
will  be  cleared  away,  the  real  conflicts  will  emerge, 
and  the  just  claims  and  needs  of  each  people  will 
be  legitimatized  in  so  far  as  the  balance  of  interest 
for  the  world  brotherhood  permits.  It  is  clear  that 
if  the  Proletariat  should  come  into  power  all  over 
the  world,  war  would  become  very  unlikely :  for  the 
workmen  everywhere  would  have  identical  interests 
and  needs ;  and  the  sufferings  and  losses  on  both 
sides  in  a  war  would  be  more  apparently  than  now 
workmen's  sufferings  and  losses. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

You  speak  of  interests  and  needs  of  workmen 
so  seriously,  Teacher,  it's  positively  funny.  One  of 


WHOLE  CLOTH  237 

the  first  needs  of  workmen  —  even  they  —  is  money, 
capital,  isn't  it? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Certainly!  Let  there  be  capital  available  to  all 
the  workmen  on  easy  terms.  What  better  means  to 
provide  for  this  than  the  nationalization  of  banks, 
a  Bolshevik  measure !  The  Bolshevik  aims  to  have  a 
census  of  all  the  needs  of  the  workmen,  and  then 
to  meet  them  as  expeditiously  and  as  equitably  as 
possible. 

ALEXIS 

And  by  "  needs  "  you  haven't  in  mind  physical 
needs,  alone ;  bread  and  butter ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Of  course  not !  All  the  desires  and  fancies  of  men 
should  be  represented  by  an  interest.  Mind  I  do  not 
specify  that  they  be  "  normal,"  common, —  democ- 
racy's regimen;  I  consider  individual  caprice  just  so 
much  potential  wealth;  it  has  significance  for  our 
new  political  realist. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 
Libertinism!     Sanine!     How  far  do  you  go? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 
So  far  as  the  individualist  is  not  anti-social ! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

There  is  no  doubt  the  libertine  would  readily 
enough  accept  your  "  new  realism,"  as  a  good  Bol- 


238      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

shevik !  You,  Pasha,  as  a  pleasure-lover,  would  ac- 
cept it,  if  you  already  weren't  in  a  position  to  enjoy 
privileges  under  the  old  system! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

You  may  take  me  for  a  worthless  fellow  seeking 
my  pleasure,  but  I  and  my  kind  are  few.  To  tempt 
all  the  untrained  rabble  to  fall  into  a  like  worth- 
lessness,  as  Michail  Sergeivitch  proposes,  that  is  a 
serious  matter.  Restraining  laws  must  be  made  by 
the  aristocrats ;  the  people  will  never  discipline  them- 
selves. Think  of  the  abomination  of  the  Bolshevik 
divorce  law.  Why  I  understand  that  a  man  needn't 
be  bound  by  his  marriage  vows  any  longer  than  the 
duration  of  the  marriage  ceremony,  which  is  short 
enough  now  at  the  magistrate's  office,  God  knows! 
You  can't  tolerate  sex  laxity  in  the  people.  It  will 
produce  laxity  in  every  other  sphere  of  life.  The 
Bolshevik  removes  the  restraint  of  the  church,  he 
removes  the  restraint  of  the  law,  and  now  he  removes 
the  restraint  of  conjugal  and  family  duties.  Your 
ordinary  man  of  the  street,  tasting  such  liberties, 
will  go  to  the  devil  in  a  short  time! 
\ 
MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Perhaps  you  really  believe  that  a  man  restrains 
his  passions  only  when  opposed  by  an  iron  law. 
We  do  not  observe  you  and  your  pals  observing  any 
law  in  these  matters:  you  enjoy  pleasure  by  night, 
and  sleep  by  day;  and  drink  and  eat,  always,  even 
now! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  239 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

We  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  our  wine  still. 
It  is  a  Bolshevik  we  bribe ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Now  you  make  fun  of  proletarian  prohibition. 
You  gentlemen  will  have  your  fling  at  every  attempt 
at  organized  unselfishness !  You  are  convinced  of 
the  depravity  of  us  all.  You  are  not,  yourselves, 
bound  by  custom,  but  you  like  to  see  others  so  bound ; 
indeed  this  subjection  of  theirs  gives  you  with  your 
super-morality,  a  sense  of  secret  superiority.  Ac- 
cordingly, you  lay  stress  on  sex  rectitude :  those  who 
depart  from  the  code  —  to  which  you  and  your  fel- 
lows pay  homage  only  in  name  —  for  howsoever  a 
relative  good,  receive  the  stinging  blows  of  your 
whips.  You  talk  much  of  sex.  You  read  the  liter- 
ature which  exploits  it.  You  are  reticent  at  one 
time  that  you  may  be  prurient  at  another.  And 
so  when  Bolshevism  comes,  menacing  your  whole 
sacro-cryptic  attitude  on  sex  matters,  you  rise  up 
in  all  the  tattered  and  half-broken  majesty  of  your 
class  self-righteousness  against  this  arch-treason  to 
the  old  sanctities;  you  declare  that  you  will  con- 
vict the  Proletarian  movement  of  sex-heterodoxy; 
and  you  imagine  that  this  is  to  give  the  movement 
its  "  knock-out  blow." 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

But,  my  dear  Professor,  just  to  unmask  prudery 
and  hypocrisy,  you  would  not  have  us  throw  to  the 
winds  all  decencies,  and  the  regularities  which  the 


240      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

accumulated  wisdom  of  the  race  has  shown  to  be  a 
physiological  necessity.  The  irregularities  of  the 
rich  may  be  reprehensible,  but,  certainly,  you  will 
not  carry  your  craze  for  social  equality  so  far  as 
to  plunge  the  big  mass  of  common  people  into  excess 
and  debauchery  by  permitting  them  the  same  free- 
dom! Your  radicals  in  all  history  run  to  Free 
Love.  Sensuality  takes  the  place  of  religion  with 
them ;  they  worship  the  Beast !  And  the  Bolsheviks 
show  the  weakness  of  true  radicals  in  this  respect  as 
in  others. 

ALEXIS 

With  what  debauchery  can  you  charge  the  Bol- 
sheviks ?  You  have  witnessed  ten  months  of  the  rule 
of  the  Proletariat.  Have  you  seen  excesses,  have 
you  seen  drunkenness,  have  you  heard  of  a  reign  of 
debauchery  ? 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Now  don't  try  to  paint  your  hooligan  friends  as 
angels,  Alexis.  I  was  in  Petrograd  the  first  night  of 
the  revolution.  I  heard  how  the  soldiers  burst  into 
the  Winter  Palace,  stole  the  jewels  and  gold,  and 
how  several  were  found  the  next  morning  floating, 
drowned,  in  pools  of  wine  in  the  wine  cellar ! 

BlTRTSEV,    THE  WAITER 

If  one  wished  to  tell  scandal  of  the  Winter  Palace, 
Pasha,  one  needn't  begin  at  the  first  night  of  the 
revolution!  You  are  not  the  only  witness  of  the 
first  days  of  the  revolution.  You  would  throw  dirt 


WHOLE  CLOTH  241 

on  the  whole  idealism  of  the  Russian  people  during 
that  mad  first-taste  of  freedom.  You  dare  not 
charge  that  the  mass  of  us  conducted  ourselves  in  a 
reckless  way.  You  might  recall  the  watchword  of 
those  days  that  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  among 
us :  "  Be  sober,  be  worthy  of  freedom !  "  You  know 
that  the  soldiers  who  did  disgrace  the  people's  honor 
were  savagely  attacked. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

But  this  state  *of  the  people's  Puritanism  did  not 
last  long !  Human  nature  is  human  nature  1  The 
Bolsheviks  got  tired  of  their  own  lofty  idealism,  and 
now  each  man  of  them  strikes  out  for  himself.  I 
know  one  commissar  in  this  city  who  has  nearly 
enough  money  scraped  together  to  go  away  with. 
How  is  it  that  your  Bolshevik  justifies  riding,  him- 
self, in  first-class  railroad  wagons,  occupying  the 
logia  at  the  theatres,  monopolizing  the  automobiles 
of  the  city,  requisitioning  for  himself  the  finest  resi- 
dences ! 

BURTSEV,    THE  WAITER 

The  devil !  I  don't  see  why  a  Bolshevik  shouldn't 
ride  in  a  first-class  wagon,  if  he  chooses  to  spend  his 
money  on  that  particular  comfort.  And  as  for  the 
fine  houses  —  in  which  any  one  family  would  get 
lost,  I  should  think  —  if  they  are  not  suitable  for 
schools  or  hospitals,  then  why  shouldn't  the  com- 
missars have  the  luck  of  living  in  them;  and  have 
automobiles,  too;  you  wouldn't  destroy  these  fine 
things,  would  you !  All  the  fine  buildings,  the  lovely 


242      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

church  towers  and  monasteries  at  a  distance,  the  big 
factories,  brilliantly  lighted  in  the  late  afternoons  of 
winter,  the  furs  and  jewels  of  women, —  all  these 
things  we  fellows  like ;  we  do  not  destroy  them !  We 
look  long  at  such  beautiful  pictures  as  Chastleevy 
paints;  it  is  only  the  portraits  marked  with  the 
imperial  arms  that  we  destroy  !  —  Well !  I  must 
hurry  away  to  wait  on  Misha  and  Pavel,  the  two 
sailor  boys  over  there;  they  want  their  fourth  ice- 
cream; it  is  a  habit  with  them  to  eat  four  of  an 
evening ;  and  if  they  pay  for  them,  why  shouldn't  they 
have  them! 

(BURTSEV   hurries   away   to   wait   on   the 
sailors.) 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Burtsev  is  your  idealist  from  below !  We  all  know 
what  a  thoroughly  good  chap  he  is,  and  what  a 
sensible  one,  too !  The  Russian  Proletariat,  if  repre- 
sented by  such  men  as  he,  instead  of  by  the  irrespon- 
sible extremists  that  now  have  their  party  in  hand, 
wouldn't  be  so  bad,  you  know!  True  enough,  since 
the  revolution,  the  masses  have  attacked  those  who 
were  caught  in  drunken  brawling,  or  looting,  or  in 
any  other  act  of  taking  advantage  of  popular  rule. 
Such  is  a  people's  idealism !  It  is  fine  to  think  that 
at  heart  the  common  people  know  what  is  decent, 
what  is  fit  to  keep,  what  is  fit  to  throw  away !  We 
intelligentsia  may  rely  on  them  to  support  the  right 
measures  —  indeed,  we  shall  need  their  support,  if 
the  right  is  to  triumph.  Moreover,  I  think  they 


WHOLE  CLOTH  243 

may  be  able  to  settle  the  great  problems  of  industry, 
themselves ;  for  it  is  their  own  problem,  after  all,  isn't 
it! 

When  I  was  in  London  last,  a  friend,  a  Labor 
member  of  parliament,  took  me  to  see  "  The  City," 
the  old  part  of  London.  The  most  interesting  sight 
to  me  was  The  Guildhall.  Hanging  from  its  time- 
darkened  rafters  were  the  lively  colored  banners  of 
the  carpenters,  the  masons,  the  shoemakers,  the  silver- 
masters,  the  bankers!  I  was  thrilled!  I  pictured 
in  my  mind  some  larger  hall  where  representatives 
of  all  a  nation's  labor  might  meet  —  where  the  real 
muscle  and  brain  of  the  people  might  speak  direct 
—  that  this  should  be  the  nation's  governing  body ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 
Thrilling  indeed!     But  too  idealistic! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 
Syndicalism ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

It  seems  a  shame  to  me  that  good  Russians  like 
the  Judge  and  the  Teacher,  who  fight  for  the  same 
general  principles,  should  quarrel  over  details  of 
policy.  What  Judge  Semyonov  has  just  now  said, 
sounds  to  me  like  an  argument  for  a  government  by 
workmen;  what  more  Bolshevism  than  this  can  the 
Teacher  desire? 

ALEXIS 

This  little  difference  between  the  positions  of  the 
Social-Revolutionary  and  the  Bolshevik,  Chastleevy, 


may  become  great  enough,  ultimately,  to  divide  the 
whole  nation  into  two  camps,  and  you  and  I  will 
have  to  choose  with  which  crowd  we  shall  cast  our 
lot.  The  Social-Revolutionaries,  being  the  right 
party  of  the  only  two  strong  parties  in  the  country, 
attract  many  of  the  conservatives  into  a  coalition 
with  them;  they  are  patronized  by  the  non-socialist 
elements,  and  will  be  persuaded  that  it  is  only  polite 
to  repay  them  with  a  compromise. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Yes,  there  is  a  difference  between  us.  We  Social- 
Revolutionaries  get  along  with  other  people;  we 
recognize  that  there  are  "  other  people "  to  get 
along  with.  The  Bolsheviks  entirely  ignore  certain 
parts  of  the  public,  certain  interests  of  all  Russia 
together.  The  Bolshevik  workman  of  course  shouts 
and  waves  his  cap  for  Bolshevism  —  Bolshevism  puts 
his  interest  above  all  other  interests.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  is  not  so  patently  for  the  interest  of  in- 
tellectuals like  the  Teacher  and  Alexis  to  support  a 
rule  by  the  working  class  —  unless  just  for  the 
distinction  of  being  humanitarian  and  "  advanced  " ; 
these  few  choice  souls  are  simply  idealists,  men  to 
spin  theories,  to  write  books  which  may  keep  us  men 
of  affairs  in  mind  of  ultimate  goals.  Their  only 
mistake  is  to  try  to  associate  themselves  with  poli- 
tics, with  the  dirty,  tiresome,  everyday  struggle  to 
make  the  crowd  move  on, —  to  cajole,  to  teach,  to 
compel  it! 

I  never  draw  my  conclusions  as  to  the  merit  of  any 


WHOLE  CLOTH  245 

public  measure  by  the  number  of  idealists  supporting 
it.  An  idealist  is  a  good  man  who  judges  everybody 
by  himself.  Now  Burtsev  here  is  a  good  Bolshevik; 
he  thinks  all  his  fellows  are  just  as  honest  and  un- 
selfish as  he  himself.  If  all  the  citizens  were  like 
Burtsev  we  shouldn't  need  any  laws  at  all.  Ninety 
per  cent,  of  them  are  not;  they  have  to  be  watched 
and  hemmed  in  by  the  law  and  its  guardians.  I  have 
not  been  a  lawyer  for  nothing.  Many  highly  re- 
spected citizens  come  to  me  to  be  advised  just  how 
honest  it  is  necessary  to  be  to  come  within  the  law; 
they  dodge  taxes  on  principle! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

You  make  a  fine  devil's  advocate,  Judge!  They 
do  say  that  honesty  is  found  only  among  primitive 
and  uncivilized  peoples  such  as  the  Chinese  and  the 
Lapps.  At  any  rate,  we  can  vouch  for  the  absolute 
honesty  of  Russia's  old  peasantry.  Much  of  the 
dishonesty  of  the  civilized  Western  peoples,  in  my 
opinion,  is  traceable  to  the  bad  customs  of  an  eco- 
nomic system  which  in  many  respects  resembles  a 
gambling  table.  Even  so,  gamblers  will  play  the 
game  according  to  their  own  rules.  Business  men 
and  lawyers  have  their  own  codes.  And  generally 
men  will  keep  faith  where  they  are  trusted  to  do  so. 
At  the  university  a  few  years  ago  some  of  the  pro- 
fessors, including  me,  decided  to  put  men  upon  their 
honor  not  to  cheat  in  our  own  examinations,  and, 
since  then,  I  believe  that  in  our  examinations  the 
cheating  has  been  the  least.  I  know  you  will  say  that 


246      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

because  I  am  only  a  good  man  and  an  idealist,  my 
support  of  Bolshevism  can  count  neither  for,  nor 
against,  it.  Or,  again,  Burtsev  is  a  Bolshevik,  and 
yet,  you  admit  a  sensible  fellow ;  so  you  put  down  his 
fault  as  idealism,  he  doesn't  understand  human  na- 
ture! I  am  wearied  with  these  arguments  ad 
hominem.  Why  must  we  reason  about  principles 
wholly  on  the  basis  of  personalities?  What  should 
it  be  for  or  against  Bolshevism,  that  among  the 
Bolsheviks  are  found  liars,  thieves,  opportunists, 
churchmen,  longshoremen,  or  idealists?  Have  you 
not  idealists  among  the  Social-Revolutionaries? 
What  is  an  idealist,  anyway?  Isn't  every  man  some- 
what of  an  idealist?  If  an  idealist  is  the  man  who 
works  out  the  principles  of  action,  who  reckons 
with  philosophy ;  if  an  idealist  is  the  man  in  a  move- 
ment who  is  there  because  a  rationalist  or  religious, 
is  the  idealist  negligible?  It  is  a  common  mistake  to 
suppose,  because  the  work  of  the  idealist  is  from 
mind  to  mind,  from  suggestion  to  deliberate  plan, 
and  as  slow  as  any  growth,  that  he  is  ineffective. 
But  it  may  be  just  as  well  that  this  mistake  persists: 
it  gives  the  idealist  an  unsuspected  leverage  over  his 
opponent. 

ALEXIS 

Can't  one  say,  Teacher,  that  the  idealist  will  be 
in  great  demand  by  the  new  political  realism !  These 
"  facts,"  these  truths  of  the  human  relationships  — 
can  they  not  best  be  observed  by  the  type  of  mind 
peculiar  to  the  idealist, —  keen,  imaginative,  un- 
trammeled  by  precedent  or  prejudice? 


WHOLE  CLOTH  247 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Most  assuredly  Bolshevism  has  need  of  idealists ! 
The  greatest  "  facts  "  for  the  Bolshevik  must  be 
human  love  and  human  faith ;  the  old  system,  though 
it  had  Christianity  for  a  foster  mother,  lost  sight 
of  them;  the  new  realism,  they  must  stare  in  the 
face !  Government,  itself,  is  by  faith ;  it  is  marvel- 
ous to  what  subtle  social  laws  men  will  react.  The 
idealist  you  will  generally  find  is  a  man  of  faith,  him- 
self; he  believes  that  love  and  faith  are  in  human 
nature ;  he  plans  and  acts  with  reference  to  these 
subtle,  social  laws  that  bind  men.  It  is  he,  I  think, 
who  takes  the  natural  course;  and  when  artificial 
and  unspiritual  systems,  codes,  and  governments  de- 
velop, it  is  he  who  must  call  people  back  to  the  right 
course.  The  leaders  of  Bolshevism  must  be  men  of 
faith:  Bolshevism  is  founded  on  the  mutual  trust  of 
workmen,  individually  and  collectively. 

For  lack  of  faith  in  their  ideals,  many  well-inten- 
tioned, half-Bolshevik  gentlemen  of  the  Bourgeoisie 
fail  to  advance  —  to  use  a  word  which  the  Judge 
just  now  used  ironically.  They  would  like  to  join 
hands  with  the  Bolsheviks ;  they  assent  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  Bolshevism;  but  they  stop  on  the  edge  of 
the  stream  and  will  not  jump  in.  Good  menl  is  it 
that  you  do  not  trust  brothers  of  a  different  bring- 
ing-up;  that  you  are  deterred  by  class-pride;  that 
you  hesitate  to  sell  all  and  give  to  the  poor,  and 
think :  "  What  will  become  of  me  without  my  clean 
linen,  my  private  library,  and  the  background  of  re- 
finement for  friendship  !  "  Alas  !  that  you  cannot 


248      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

see  that  all  these  things  would  be  added  unto  you,  in 
counterpart,  or,  yea,  even  in  greater  measure,  by 
an  act  of  faith  on  your  part. 

The  Bolshevik  can  accomplish  marvels :  he  believes ! 
Fantastic,  misplaced,  unquestioning,  impatient  be- 
lief, maybe ;  nevertheless,  it  is  pounding  and  surging, 
ceaselessly,  on  and  on,  out  of  the  depths  of  the  ocean 
of  humanity.  Like  a  tidal  wave  Bolshevism  will 
carry  along  with  it  the  masses  of  mankind;  there  is 
the  inevitability  of  social  evolution  in  it.  For  these 
new  social  ideas,  once  they  really  have  a  hold  on  the 
masses,  will  be  the  first  dictates  to  action,  no  matter 
how  reasonable  or  unreasonable ;  they  will  gain  the 
victory  complete;  they  will  reign  potently  as  the 
religion  of  the  masses. 

Meantime,  the  Bourgeoisie  become  fatalistically 
inert.  They  refuse  to  believe  that  the  people  can 
do  anything  without  their  leadership ;  they  forget 
the  fecundity  of  the  people  to  produce  their  own 
leaders  when  it  needs  them.  In  the  English  Rebellion 
of  the  seventeenth  century  and  in  the  French  Revo- 
lution, the  people  completely  renounced  its  old  lead- 
ers. Let  our  Russian  Bourgeoisie  —  the  clean 
scribes  and  Pharisees  who  write  clever  books  and 
make  pungent  speeches  —  scornfully  count,  if  they 
will,  the  day  till  their  return  to  power;  they  may  be 
sure  that  this  present  scornful  self-importance  of 
theirs  is  the  only  importance  they  will  ever  have! 
They  are  the  old  surface  that  covered  the  mouth  of 
a  crater;  they  are  now  the  buried  ones,  buried  be- 


WHOLE  CLOTH  249 

neath  tons  of  burning  lava  that  still  flows  straight 
from  the  very  bowels  of  mankind. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Sansculottism !  Hail  Carlyle  of  the  Russian 
Revolution ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

The  ideas  of  Bolshevism  are  working  in  the  masses 
over  the  wide  world  like  yeast !  The  war-lords  con- 
tribute from  their  money-bags  to  stop  the  menace. 
They  use  the  censor,  the  prison,  and  their  echoing 
press.  They  fail  to  see  that  these  are  weapons  of 
putty  pitted  against  sharpest  steel.  It  is  unbelief 
pitted  against  belief !  Just  as  it  was  at  the  time  of 
the  French  Revolution  !  What  though  the  Girondins 
had  the  best  of  the  argument !  They  had  learned 
to  argue  out  of  books  and  in  my  lady's  parlor! 
But  the  Mountain  was  a  yeasty  place.  There  blood 
was  thick.  There  Faith  was  not  scant !  The  be- 
lievers were  sweaty  and  hot-hearted.  They  were 
moved  from  within,  they  knew  not  the  working  of 
the  mystery.  And  something  great  and  strong, 
born  out  of  their  belief,  has  endured  down  to  the 
present  generation,  and  now  in  its  maturity,  impreg- 
nated by  a  faith  even  more  virile,  has  brought  forth 
our  Bolshevik  Revolution. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

And  like  the  French  Revolution,  it  will  usher  in 
a  reaction,  some  such  dictator  as  Napoleon.  It  is 
of  quick  growth,  and  it  will  have  a  quick  death. 


250      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

ALEXIS 

Of  course  if  you  will  look  superstitiously  to  the 
past ;  if  you  will  find  in  history  only  cycles  — 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

And  why  should  this  revolution  be  more  perma- 
nent than  others? 

ALEXIS 

Because  this  is  1900  and  not  1800.  Because  the 
modern  industrial  workers  are  more  intelligent  and 
possess  greater  solidarity  than  the  peasants  and 
detached  workmen  of  the  past.  Because  this  Revolu- 
tion is  a  product  of  a  war  and  its  camp  fields  like 
nothing  of  the  past.  Understanding  is  being  bred 
there.  And  strong  feeling,  too !  These  present  rev- 
olutions will  endure  because  they  rest  on  the  strong 
feelings  of  the  masses ;  it  is  religion  with  them. 
They  have  been  bankrupt  in  religion  too  long.  Now 
at  last  they  may  discard  a  religion  of  sticks  and 
stones,  of  crosses  and  icons,  of  theologies  made  ex 
cathedra  out  of  the  childish  metaphysics  of  Syrian, 
Egyptian  and  decadent  Greek,  mystics  and  sophists 
—  a  medicine  man's  religion.  The  cumbersome  old 
religion  is  being  dismantled  along  with  the  arma- 
ments. Its  charm  is  ceasing  to  work  any  longer. 
The  new  religion,  which  is  replacing  it,  contains  the 
germs  of  a  genuine  brotherhood:  military  force  will 
only  a  little  longer  bid  the  workmen  come  and  go; 
soon  they  will  stir  only  when  moved  by  a  sense  of 
duty  inculcated  by  this  new  religion.  The  old  re- 


WHOLE  CLOTH  251 

ligion  divided  men.     The  new   religion  must  unite 
them;  it  must  be  catholic  and  international! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

We've  outgrown  Catholicism;  that's  absence  of 
thought.  As  soon  as  your  workmen  begin  to  think, 
there  will  be  divisions  in  the  church  of  the  Prole- 
tariat. As  now  you  have  Orthodox,  old  believers, 
Baptists,  and  Atheists  ;  so  then  there  will  be  single- 
taxers,  three-hour-a-day  men,  the  skilled  tradesmen, 
the  syndicalists! 

ALEXIS 

The  sect-phase  has  no  place  in  the  new  religion! 
In  many  of  our  Russian  churches  one  sees  painted 
the  seven  councils  of  the  church.  Each  council  is 
represented  as  a  trial  scene.  In  the  center  is  the 
Emperor ;  on  his  right  hand  sit  the  men  of  God  with 
halos  above  their  heads;  on  his  left,  sit  the  heretics, 
a  black,  defiant,  interesting  lot.  So  men  have  been 
declared  right  or  wrong  according  to  the  decrees  of 
the  greatest  hairsplitters.  This  is  typical  of  the 
old  religion  as  it  is  of  the  old  political  partisanship. 
In  the  future  men  will  disagree  in  politics  and  in 
religion,  but  it  must  be  as  to  real  interests,  and  the 
interests  of  the  Catholic  brotherhood  must  always 
predominate. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

It  is  very  easy  for  young  chaps  like  you  to  talk 
of  the  old  and  the  new,  as  if  the  world  grew  up  only 
with  them.  With  you  and  your  fellow-revolution- 


252      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

aries,  even  God  is  out  of  date.  You  are  all  atheists 
or  agnostics,  I'll  warrant.  Now,  confess,  Gospadeen 
Alexis  Zolodeen,  do  you  believe  in  God? 

ALEXIS 

If  we  wish  our  dialogue  of  this  evening  to  get  any- 
where, you  must  excuse  me  just  now  from  any  elab- 
oration of  my  idea  of  God.  But  I  need  not  spar 
with  you:  I  may  honestly  say  I  do  not  believe  in 
the  God  of  Christianity.  The  war  has  been  the 
greatest  piece  of  atheism  in  all  history :  it  puts  out 
of  countenance  the  God  Christians  worship.  It 
denies  that  there  is  a  God  of  men ;  it  allows  only  for 
a  God  of  the  kings  and  leaders  of  people.  The  ruler 
of  one  people  hurls  his  anathemas  at  another  people 
in  the  name  of  God.  But  such  a  Divinity,  called 
upon  for  victory  and  propitiated  with  the  blood  of 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  victims,  cannot  be  a  God 
of  men,  a  God  of  human  hearts.  This  God,  the  God 
of  the  war-lords,  seems  to  me  as  hollow,  as  dead,  as 
unresponsive  to  the  prayer  of  a  heated  man  as  that 
Moloch  of  the  Isarelites,  compounded  out  of  the  gold 
and  silver  of  an  itching  fleshliness.  This  God  seems 
to  approve  of  men  according  to  the  country  they 
live  in,  or  the  amount  of  property  they  possess.  The 
Bolshevik  speaks  in  the  name  of  no  such  empty  tribal 
God ;  he  speaks  for  no  national  church ;  he  builds  up 
no  philanthropic  institutions  at  the  dictation  of  a 
property-holding  class. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 
You  have  gone  far  enough,  young  man !     One  can 


WHOLE  CLOTH  253 

readily  see  that  socialism  and  religion  are  all  one  to 
you.  You  overlook  the  fact  that  the  Christian  God 
you  so  lightly  dismiss  has  prevailed  during  all  these 
twenty  centuries  of  civilized  man  on  earth ! 

ALEXIS 

The  Bourbons  reigned  long,  and  the  Romanoffs 
long,  during  all  the  years  of  civilized  Russia.     But 
when  the  last  Czar's  crown  fell,  with  it  fell  that  ven- 
eration for  the  crown-bearer  which  was  supposed  to 
be  ineradicably  planted  in  the  Russian  people:  they 
were  ready  for  something  purer  and  truer  to  ven- 
erate.    The  Christian  God  has  also  been  thought  to 
stand  absolute  and  fixed  forever,  with  certain  perma- 
nent qualities,  among  the  European  peoples.     But 
with  the  advent  of  a  new  religion  of  the  people,  such 
a  God,  an  improved  Israelitish  Javeh,  is  cast  into 
the  lumber-room   where   the   socially   outworn   and 
vestigial  usages   of   the   race  lie,   forgotten   by   all 
except  the  scholars  and  romancers.     The  God  of  the 
new  religion  must  not  be  an  old  man  contemplating 
what  fine  thing  he  has  done ;  but  live  and  growing,  a 
young  God,  strong  and  beautiful  and  passionate  — 
to  direct  us  as  we  go  on  with  him  creating  a  better 
world !     Look,  look !   here   comes   the  beggar's   girl 
again,  to-night.     Her  singing  is  of  the  new  religion ! 
( There  has  approached  a  BEGGAR,  a  sturdy 
old  fellow  with  staff  in  hand,  accompanied  by 
a  young  girl.     The  girl  sings  in  front  of  the 
cafe.     She  is  like  some  fresh  wild  thing  from 
the  country!     Not  sweet;  rather  her  manner 


254.      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

is  tragic  and  beyond  Tier  years.  She  is 
mysteriously  detached  from  her  singing,  her 
mind  seems  not  to  be  in  the  park  at  all.  Yet 
she  captivates  those  who  listen  in  the  thick 
circle  already  crowded  around  her.  The 
young  men  are  fascinated  not  only  by  her 
voice,  but  by  her  figure,  as  "well:  for,  as  she 
sings,  she  dances,  wildly  tossing  her  arms. 
Her  long  black  hair  is  beautiful!  These  men 
who  are  held  spell-bound  by  her  have,  to  use 
the  common  expression,  "  gone  to  the 
gypsies."  After  the  singing  the  old  man 
passes  the  hat.  He  comes  upon  the  veranda 
and  to  the  corner  table.) 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Tell  us,  father,  is  yonder  girl  who  has  fascinated 
us  with  her  singing,  your  granddaughter,  or  other 
relative  of  yours? 

THE  BEGGAR 

She  is  my  granddaughter,  Nastya,  my  son  Vassili's 
girl.  Do  you  enjoy  her  singing? 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Very  much!  I  have  not  enjoyed  singing  so  much 
in  a  long  time !  Have  you  been  walking  the  way  of 
the  world  long,  father? 

THE  BEGGAR 

You  seem  interested  in  me,  sir !  Would  you  really 
like  to  hear  my  story? 


WHOLE  CLOTH  255 

SEVERAL 
Yes!     Tell  us   about  yourself! 

THE  BEGGAR 

I  have  not  always  been  a  beggar;  I  was  a  beggar 
when  I  was  young,  and  I  am  one  now  that  I  am  old, 
but  for  twenty  years  I  was  a  landholder.  My  father 
was  a  serf  on  the  estate  of  Nicolai  Vladimirivitch 
Tyzenbak,  twenty  versts  from  Nishni.  I  did  not 
like  the  plowing  and  sowing  and  reaping  on  the 
estate.  When  I  was  in  the  fields  I  would  feel  very 
lonely  and  very  far  from  God.  The  City  seemed  to 
me  a  happier  place  and  so  to  the  city  I  came.  Is 
it  not  strange  that  I  should  so  dislike  the  country, 
having  lived  there  myself  as  a  boy,  while  Nastya,  my 
granddaughter  here,  she  prays  to  live  in  the  country? 
She  is  always  dreaming  of  being  a  peasant's  wife! 
Well!  When  I  came  to  the  city  I  found  that  very 
much  I  loved  to  be  on  the  streets  where  always  are 
many  people  passing  and  it  is  merry,  and  so  I  became 
a  walker  of  the  world.  I  chose  to  stand  all  day 
near  the  holy  shrine  of  Saint  Sergei.  Many  happy 
years  I  spent  so.  I  married. 

Then  the  people  who  make  our  laws  at  the  city  of 
Saint  Petersburg  made  a  new  law,  under  which,  so 
my  friends  in  the  country  informed  me,  I  received  a 
share  in  some  land  on  the  Tyzenbak  estate  which 
had  fallen  to  our  family.  It  made  me  proud  to  be 
a  landholder,  and  that  day  I  heard  of  this  I  burned 
a  large  candle  at  the  shrine  of  Saint  Sergei.  I  re- 
turned to  the  country  and  remained  ten  years,  but 


256      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

all  that  time  I  longed  very  much  to  be  back  on  the 
city  streets.  So  I  let  Pavel  Ivanovitch  take  my 
small  strip  of  land  and  pay  me  rent  out  of  every 
harvest.  On  this  rent  and  the  profits  from  selling 
little  articles  at  the  bazaar,  I  made  a  living  for  my- 
self and  my  orphaned  granddaughter,  Nastya. 
Then  came  the  present  Czars  to  rule  in  the  city  of 
Saint  Petersburg,  and  they  made  new  laws  and  took 
away  my  land  in  the  country,  because,  as  they  said, 
I  was  only  a  landholder ;  I  did  not  plow  and  sow 
and  reap  myself,  but  took  rent  from  the  harvest.  So 
now  I  have  to  walk  the  world  again,  for  I  cannot 
make  enough  roubles  at  my  little  stall  in  the  bazaar 
to  keep  myself  and  Nastya,  my  granddaughter, 
when  the  price  of  bread  is  more  than  five  roubles  a 
pound. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

Michail  Sergeivitch,  here  you  find  another  peasant 
who  hates  the  Bolsheviks !  You  know,  father,  of 
course,  that  it  is  the  Bolsheviks  who  have  done  you 
this  injury! 

GUEST  AT  ADJOINING  TABLE 

Father,  beware  of  the  counter-revolutionaries  who 
take  a  sudden  interest  in  your  welfare!  The  Bol- 
sheviks will  drop  money  into  your  hat  as  often  as 
any  people. 

A  SECOND  GUEST 

(A  companion  to  the  first.)  Don't  deceive  the  old 
man,  Theodor!  The  Bolsheviks  are  going  to  keep 
beggars  off  the  streets  —  in  the  public  interest ! 

OO  JL 


WHOLE  CLOTH  257 

THE  BEGGAR 

I  know  little  about  Czars,  gentlemen!  God  gave 
me  the  land  in  the  country  and  now  God  has  taken  it 
away!  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness,  gentlemen. 
God  bless  you! 

(The  BEGGAR  rejoins  his  granddaughter, 
and  they  both  move  on.) 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

This  man  of  your  people,  Alexis,  seems  not  yet  to 
understand  that  God  and  the  Czar  are  socially 
vestigial ! 

ALEXIS 

The  old  man  does  not  understand,  but  the  girl 
who  sang,  will.  Last  night  I  heard  her  singing  some 
revolutionary  songs  to  a  large  crowd;  she  wasn't 
singing  for  money  only !  Her  singing  is  a  piece 
with  Mordkin's  dance  of  the  Italian  Beggar,  which 
we  saw  him  do  when  he  was  here  on  his  last  Volga 
tour.  The  Great  Revolution  is  all  there.  First  the 
beggar  is  represented  as  dejected,  as  without  idea, 
as  unawakened.  Then  bursts  upon  his  mind  his 
real  occasion  to  feel  proud  and  glad,  and,  waving 
his  red  scarf,  he  dances  with  abandon,  he  dances  out 
the  happiness  in  him! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 
He  spends  the  riches  of  himself ! 

ALEXIS 

Yes,  he  spends  of  himself !  Did  you  ever  experi- 
ence the  discovery  of  a  depthless  mine  of  gold  all 


258 

within  yourself:  finer  and  purer  than  pure  gold, 
usable,  inexhaustible!  It  is  a  mad  discovery!  To 
sing,  to  dance,  to  make  something  beautiful,  that  is 
the  only  way  to  express  one's  unutterable  joy! 
These  revolutionaries  are  expressing  themselves,  good 
or  bad,  in  Bolshevism.  To  the  people  in  Europe 
who  read  of  it,  it  may  appear  silly ;  but  to  us  who 
witness  it  —  to  me,  it  is  very  human !  alive !  and 
freshly  born !  it  expresses  what  before  had  been  only 
a  hope  and  a  belief !  It  is  like  dancing  and  singing ! 
Mordkin  expresses  its  exaltation !  The  beggar's 
granddaughter  expresses  its  freshness  and  wildness, 
its  strength  and  its  weakness ! 


Alexis,  you,  yourself,  express  the  Revolution! 
Through  you,  I  see  something  I  did  not  know  was  in 
Bolshevism  before.  You  speak  as  a  poet  about  it; 
your  speech  is  alive  and  freshly  born! 

ALEXIS 

I  speak  as  I  myself  feel  it.  Before  it  came,  I 
only  know  how  many  times  I  felt  dejected ;  how  con- 
tinually I  felt  hampered  and  repressed  by  those  re- 
ligious and  cultural  norms  which  seem  to  rest  lightly 
enough  on  others,  but  are,  to  me,  intolerable,  because 
in  direct  opposition  to  what  tells  me  in  my  own  heart 
is  beautiful  and  true.  Perhaps  what  tells  me  in  my 
heart  of  these  beautiful  and  true  things,  is  God. 
But  it  is  too  awfully  human,  I  think;  it  cannot  be 
a  deity :  it  is  so  much  a  part  of  me ;  it  seems  like  hav- 


WHOLE  CLOTH  259 

ing  somewhere,  safe  and  always  accessible,  the  fresh- 
est, most  fragrant  and  altogether  lovely  Spring 
Garden  where  I  may  walk  and  feel  absolutely  free; 
feel  first  one  thing,  and  then  another  —  I  feel  that 
I  am  an  exquisite  rose,  a  bluebird  flying  through  the 
air,  the  last  notes  of  some  short  theme  of 
Tschaichovsky !  And  so  I  have  good  feelings,  which 
my  Divinity  approves,  when  I  hear  this  beggar  girl 
sing ;  when  I  see  Mordkin  dance ;  when  I  visit  Chast- 
leevy's  studio  and  watch  him  paint,  and  hear  him 
talk  about  his  work  as  if  no  one  ever  before  painted 
anything  quite  so  fine!  Also,  when  I  listen  to  The 
Teacher:  he  is  a  real  teacher  who  every  day  sees 
some  new  thing  the  like  of  which  was  never  before, 
but  before  was  something  a  little  less,  something  a 
little  less  significant ;  he  sees  in  what  plain  soldiers 
and  shoemakers  do  and  declare  remarkable  evidences 
of  his  theories ;  and  all  his  theories  are  so  simple  and 
tentative;  what  he  holds  to-day  he  may  enlarge, 
diminish  or  wholly  dismiss,  to-morrow. 

And  in  the  same  way  I  like  these  Bolsheviks  im- 
measurably well ;  I  cannot  tell  why ;  but  that  within 
me  which  is  continually  telling  what  to  like,  tells  me 
the  Bolsheviks  are  interesting!  So  I  watch  them. 
And,  as  it  is  the  way  usually,  what  I  watch  and  study 
I  take  into  my  heart.  When  I  see  the  Red  Guards 
marching,  and  when  I  read  in  the  bulletins  that  they 
are  meeting  with  success,  I  am  elated.  I  hang 
around  the  parks  where  they  are  holding  festivals, 
and  I  stop  and  watch  their  "  praetorian  guards  " 
dash  down  the  streets  in  the  automobiles  that  they 


260      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

have  taken  from  the  Bourgeoisie,  and  I  smile;  and 
when  the  man  beside  me  says  "  what  rascals ! "  I 
repeat  "  what  rascals  !  "  but  I  have  a  different  mean- 
ing; it  is  of  no  use  to  explain  to  him  the  difference 
of  meaning,  for  then  we  should  discuss  and  discuss, 
and  he  would  describe  many  foul  Bolshevik  deeds  and 
many  foul  Bolshevik  men. 

All  the  same,  I  find  myself  secretly  wishing  to  be 
a  Bolshevik!  I  wonder,  should  I  have  my  wish, 
should  I  still  have  my  Spring  garden  to  walk  out 
into !  Of  late,  I  become  more  and  more  convinced 
that  there  is  only  one  way  to  keep  always  within 
walking  distance  of  that  garden,  and  that  is  to  seek 
unfalteringly  such  master- joys  as  I  find:  joy  in  the 
singing  girl,  in  the  man  like  Mordkin  possessed  with 
some  mad  conceit,  in  active  minds  like  Chastleevy's 
or  the  Teacher's.  So  I  shall  continue  not  to  be 
ashamed  to  rejoice  when  the  Red  Guards  go  by,  and 
to  think  as  well  of  the  new  rulers  as  it  is  possible. 
And  I  shall  continue  to  believe  that  the  Great  Revo- 
lution has  something  to  do  with  the  greater  happi- 
ness I  have  enjoyed  since  it  happened :  I  feel  decidedly 
less  hampered  and  repressed! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH     / 
It  is  the  poet  of  us  who  has  been  speaking ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Perhaps  so!  That  may  explain  why  I  have  not 
understood  perfectly.  I  never  was  strong  on  poetry 
—  gardens,  Spring,  the  bluebird's  last  notes,  and  so 
on!  I  do  not  understand  this  heart-acceleration  of 


WHOLE  CLOTH  261 

Alexis  at  his  "  Great  Revolution  " ;  I  must  confess  I 
can't  see  anything  poetical  about  dirty  revolution- 
aries. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Just  read  Shelley,  Plaistead !  "  Prometheus  Un- 
bound"! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Prometheus  and  Shelley  may  be  good  Bokheviks 
for  all  I  know;  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  acquainted 
with  the  leaders  of  such  movements.  But,  damn  it! 
I  can't  see  why  your  first  revolution  —  the  March 
Revolution  —  wasn't  poetic  and  "  great  "  enough  to 
give  play  to  all  the  exuberance  of  you  excitable 
Russians ! 

MICHAIL,  SEKGEIVITCH 

We  Russians  are  not  excited  about  Mediocrities ! 
There  is  no  exuberance,  except  that  of  comedy,  about 
a  sham  revolution.  The  blind  ones,  the  self-involved 
intellectuals,  those  slow  of  heart  —  to  them  the 
March  Revolution  was  just  right;  neither  too  hot 
nor  too  cold,  served  up  in  a  dish  neither  too  large 
nor  too  small !  The  Bourgeoisie  wanted  their  own 
little  revolution,  of  course.  The  Capitalist  plays 
the  revolutionary  game:  he  is  out  for  the  same  ob- 
jects apparently  as  the  true  revolutionary;  only 
when  he  gets  near  the  goal  he  will  never  put  the  ball 
over. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

How  can  you  pretend,  Michail  Sergeivitch,  that 
the  March  Revolution  was  conducted  by  capitalists ! 
We  Social-Revolutionaries  were  behind  it.  Who  are 


262      SKETCHES  OP  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

the  true  revolutionaries,  time  and  intelligent  Russia 
will  decide.  We  Social-Revolutionaries  offer  the 
same  promises  to  Russia  as  you;  and  we  are  more 
likely  to  fulfill  them.  For  we  educated  people  con- 
trol the  agencies  of  the  Past,  we  have  the  key  to  the 
treasury  of  the  Past.  Tell  me,  learned  Teacher,  how 
can  a  people  live,  one  with  the  other,  without  law ! 
Law  is  evolutionary;  the  law  of  to-morrow  must  be 
based  on  the  law  of  to-day.  Your  Bolsheviks  are 
anarchists :  they  recognize  neither  time  nor  measure ; 
they  only  destroy,  they  cannot  replace.  They  rend 
the  temple  of  the  law  and  there  is  among  them  no 
master  who  can  rebuild  it. 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Rend  the  temple  of  the  law!  That  temple  is  al- 
ready crumbling.  The  great  modernists  of  the  law, 
the  sociological  jurists,  have  long  been  undermining 
it,  doing  to  the  law  what  the  higher  critics  did  to 
theology.  Let  me  carry  the  analogy  between  law 
and  theology  still  further!  I  have  heard  you  say, 
Judge,  that  the  church  is  but  a  shell;  that  its  theol- 
ogy is  based  on  an  error,  made  at  the  Council  of 
Nicea,  and  that  since  then  the  trinitarian  dogma  has 
led  the  churchmen  a  merry  chase  through  number- 
less tomfooleries.  And  when  the  hierarchy  of  the  old 
Russian  church  was  overthrown  a  year  ago  and  the 
radical  priests  were  set  up  in  power  and  donned  the 
brilliant  robes  and  the  bishops'  miters,  you  declared 
in  a  burst  of  religious  fervor :  "  Why  such  fuss  over 
half  changes;  why  not  wholly  clean  the  house  of 


WHOLE  CLOTH  263 

God  at  once  and  be  done  with  mummery,  the  chanting 
of  sonorous  nonsense,  the  kissing  of  icons,  and  other 
parade  and  pageant  of  a  sensual  religion !  "  Didn't 
you  say  something  like  this,  Judge? 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

I  said  all  of  that !  Mind,  I'm  not  an  atheist,  but 
I  am  out  of  all  patience  with  the  archaism  of  our 
Russian  church. 

MICHAIL  SEEGEIVITCH 

No  less,  Judge,  am  I  out  of  all  patience  with  the 
archaism  of  our  law.  I  think  the  law  is  an  empty 
shell;  that  the  prevailing  property-right  theories 
of  recent  court  decisions  are  based  on  an  error;  that 
the  law  got  on  the  wrong  track,  was  forced  into  the 
service  of  powerful  commercial  interests;  that  the 
early  law  like  the  early  church  was  communistic; 
that  it  was  the  whole  body  of  society  that  at  first  had 
the  sole  rights;  private  rights  came  later. 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

And  you  would  have  law  retrocede  to  that  point 
where  private  rights  began ! 

MICHAIL  SEEGEIVITCH 

Certainly  not!  The  Bolshevik  is  the  more,  not 
the  less,  an  individualist !  There  will  be  more  law, 
not  less,  when  the  present  bulky,  wasteful,  take-if- 
you-can,  hit-or-miss  system  is  supplanted.  But, 
first,  Judge,  before  we  have  more  law,  we  must  have 
less:  we  must  indeed  rend  your  temple  of  the  law, 


264.      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

already  topheavy !  This  body  of  law  must  perish, 
together  with  the  System,  alongside  which,  and  in 
support  of  which,  it  has  been  built.  For  law  shares 
the  guilt  of  its  partner;  it  wears  the  same  ugly, 
grotesque  face'!  We  shall  have  to  go  back  to  na- 
tural law  —  just  as  we  go  back  to  natural 
religion!  You  admit  we  cannot  piece  out  the 
old  religion.  Well !  there  is  no  more  reason  in  evolu- 
tion to  graft  the  new  law  on  the  old  than  to  graft 
the  new  religion  on  the  old.  New  wine,  you  remem- 
ber, friend,  requires  new  bottles  1 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

But  how  in  the  world  do  you  make  out  that  there 
will  be  more  law  under  Bolshevism? 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

More  law  because  of  more  competing  interests ! 
The  inauguration  of  social  equality  will  not  produce 
the  simplification  you  expect:  when  the  conflict  be- 
tween the  classes  ceases,  then,  promptly,  disinte- 
gration, horizontally,  according  to  the  thousand  and 
one  real  interests  of  men,  begins.  The  area  and  in- 
tensity of  conflict  subject  to  court  jurisdiction  will 
be  increased:  to  meet  the  greater  demand  on  it,  the 
machinery  of  the  law  must  become  more  elastic,  and 
cognizant  of  finer  discriminations.  Do  not  fear, 
Judge,  that  the  legal  mind  will  want  for  exercise; 
on  the  contrary,  a  legal  mind,  which  is  not  quick, 
original  and  flexible,  will  be  valueless! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  265 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Trust  these  Bolsheviks  to  invent  new  laws !  Look 
at  any  one  of  their  flaming  news-sheets !  One-half, 
orders  and  decrees !  There  are  more  Soviets  in  the 
city  than  inhabitants!  There  is  a  commissar  for 
dogs !  There  is  to  be  one  for  the  park  pigeons ! 
And  some  crazy  night-shirter  proposes  one  for  styles 
of  dress !  Everything  is  by  card  or  permit.  You 
are  correct,  Teacher :  the  Bolshevik  will  multiply  the 
laws  —  so  much  so,  that  there  will  not  be  freedom, 
even  to  die,  without  permit !  I  protest  I  prefer  by 
far  those  happy  lawless  days  under  the  easy-going 
administration  of  such  public  robbers  as  you  and 
your  legal  fraternity,  Judge! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

My  fraternity  would  starve,  Pasha,  if  it  hadn't 
yours  to  feed  upon !  —  Teacher,  after  all,  you  seem 
to  give  us  lawyers  no  small  place  in  your  Proletariat 
state !  You  trace  well  the  probable  course  of  de- 
velopment of  the  law;  only,  if  anything,  you  over- 
rate the  importance  of  the  law  in  the  society  of  the 
future.  I  should  like  to  see  less  law ;  my  idea  is  that 
law  is  but  a  makeshift  for  natural  justice.  Law 
holds  people  to  what  they  ought  to  do  unbidden.  It 
prevents  the  giving  of  free  rein  to  wanton  desire 
and  strength.  It  is  the  lack  of  law  that  explains  the 
present  anarchy.  Your  Proletariat  has  free  rein; 
see  what  injustice  prevails!  Law  is  codified  disci- 
pline. Tell  me,  Teacher,  how  do  the  Bolsheviks  pro- 
pose to  maintain  personal  and  public  discipline? 


266      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

That  is  a  point  which  I  think,  also,  is  of  major 
importance.  Discipline  is  absolutely  necessary,  if 
a  people  keeps  its  own  respect  and  gets  business 
done!  And  will  you  pardon  me  a  criticism  of  the 
Russians  —  remember  I  wish  to  speak  cautiously, 
as  always  when  I  criticize  Russia ;  of  course,  I  really 
don't  know  her  yet !  —  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
Russians  as  a  people  are  very  much  lacking  in  disci- 
pline. This  fact  explains  many  of  their  weaknesses ; 
though,  perhaps  it  should  be  added,  it  accounts  for 
some  of  their  charms. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTI^EMAN 

Ah!  we  have  explained  to  us  now,  Mr.  America, 
wherein  lies  the  charm  for  you  of  our  Russian  women, 
from  whom  you  choose  your  wife! 

(BURTSEV  brings  in  a  tray  of  bottles  for 
the  corner  table.  He  stands  at  the  shoulder 
of  CHASTLEEVY;  drinks  half  a  glass  of  beer 
from  CHASTLEEVY'S  bottle.) 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

Lack  of  discipline  is  the  vulnerable  point  in  Bolshe- 
vism. Principle  is  one  thing;  method  and  results, 
another.  We  Austrian  Social  Democrats  are  pretty 
close  to  Bolshevist  principles,  but  we  stick  to  win- 
ning methods.  We  shall  be  the  dictators  of  Austria 
after  the  war.  It  is  by  our  inflexible  discipline  that 
we  shall  in  time  break  the  back  of  the  parties  to  the 
right  of  us.  The  Bolsheviks  trust  to  the  miracles 


WHOLE  CLOTH  267 

of  faith,  or  to  poetry  —  they  speak  finely  like  this 
young  gentleman,  meanwhile  allowing  their  army  to 
die  of  dry  rot:  they  remove  the  death-penalty;  they 
remove  all  officers.  I  don't  say  their  army  isn't 
brave !  It's  so  eager  that  it  fires  off  all  its  shells 
before  the  Czechs  are  within  striking  distance  —  and 
then  has  to  run.  But,  at  last,  Trotsky  and  his  staff 
recognize  the  point  of  weakness  in  their  army:  now 
they  are  looking  about  for  men  with  officers'  train- 
ing. They  have  found  me  for  one  man;  to-morrow 
I  go  down  to  the  Kazan  front  for  them. 

ALEXIS 
In  the  service  of   the   Fatherland? 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

It  may  ultimately  serve  the  Socialist  Austria  that 
is  to  be  after  the  war! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

The  American  and  the  Austrian  seem  to  answer 
the  question  about  Bolshevik  discipline  as  they  ask 
it.  The  disciplined  Americans  and  Germans  are  de- 
termined, first  of  all,  to  get  something  done.  The 
Bolsheviks  are  not  much  concerned  to  get  something 
done  as  to  decide  what  shall  be  done.  They  are  less 
concerned,  yes  I  am  sure  they  are  less  concerned  — 
how  efficient  an  army  they  have,  than  what  they 
have  an  army  for.  Discipline  consists  first  of  a 
body  of  rules  and  customs,  and,  second,  of  the  en- 
forcement of  these.  The  Bolshevik  accepts  this 
definition.  But,  first,  he  insists  that  the  rules  and 


268      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

customs  agree  with  the  principles  of  the  Bolshevik 
Brotherhood,  and  second,  that  they  be  observed  in 
the  Bolshevik  spirit.  The  spirit  of  Bolshevik  disci- 
pline is  the  development,  expression,  and  government 
of  self:  it  is  self-discipline.  It  is  the  act  of  those 
who  know  their  own  will.  Autocratic  or  democratic 
armies  may  conquer  the  whole  world,  and  yet  have 
no  purpose  of  their  own,  accepting  discipline  for 
its  own  sake. 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

Whatever  its  discipline,  the  Red  Army  lost  Sam- 
ara, Simbirsk,  and  Kazan. 

BlJRTSEV,    THE    WAITER 

(Stands  between  CHASTLEEVY  and  JUDGE  SEMY- 
ONOV.  Has  been  intent  on  the  conversation;  his 
head  hanging  out  over  his  body.)  The  Red  Army 
will  march  back  over  Kazan,  Simbirsk  and  Samara. 
It  is  becoming  stronger  with  every  day,  despite  the 
stories  circulated  by  the  Contra-Revolutionaries  that 
the  Czechs  are  only,  now  a  hundred,  now  fifty  versts 
from  Nishni.  Batteries  are  beginning  to  arrive 
from  the  factories ;  the  Petrograd,  Moscow,  and 
Smolensk  workmen  delegations  are  already  at  the 
front!  (Shrieking  whistles  are  heard  below  on  the 
river.  One  boat  after  another  takes  up  the  long- 
drawn-out,  blood-curdling  cry.}  There  go  our  army 
boats  now  to  the  front ;  with  more  contingents,  prob- 
ably! These  workmen  make  for  us  something  we 
can  be  proud  of  —  an  army  of  the  Proletariat.  We 
conscript  from  our  own  ranks,  in  our  own  interest! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  269 

This  Red  Army  of  ours  is  new;  it  has  hardly  had 
the  time  to  make  for  itself  those  new  rules  and  cus- 
toms of  which  the  Teacher  speaks,  but,  never  fear; 
we  discipline  ourselves,  we  shall  find  what  rules  we 
need. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

The  people  will  go  on  looking  for  their  self-gov- 
ernment till  eternity,  and,  meanwhile,  their  rules  and 
customs  are  violence,  insolent  bullying,  and  the  "  red 
claw  " !  Indeed,  the  silly  people  hold  the  scepter ; 
right  is  their  own  caprice ;  they  who  should  feel  the 
rod  now  thrash  their  betters  with  it,  hit  or  miss. 
Their  dictators,  insolent  jackanapes,  meet  in  secret 
cabinet,  and  tell  off  to  die  somewhere  in  the  dark, 
the  brave  men  who  provoke  their  resentment,  not 
even  allowing  them  the  honor  of  riding  publicly  to 
their  gallows  in  a  tumbril! 

ALEXIS 

Three-quarters  of  the  "  violence  "  and  the  "  red 
claw  "  is  the  product  of  your  own  jolly  imagination, 
Pasha !  Many  Bolsheviks  who  were  down  and  are 
now  up,  demand  some  sacrifice  to  their  vengeance. 
Many  make  the  power  of  office  a  brutal  tyranny. 
Many,  with  more  eagerness  than  good  sense,  plunge 
headlong  into  random  suspicion  and  hatred  of 
bourgeois  men  and  women,  and  refuse  to  reckon  them 
fellow-citizens,  candidates  for  the  Proletariat  on 
trial.  Of  these  false  or  over-eager  ones,  we  who 
hate  bloodshed  that  is  not  honest,  are  ashamed. 
But  it  is  few  that  are  bloody !  I  have  seen  the  face 


270      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

of  the  president  of  one  committee  against  contra- 
revolution ;  I  looked  into  it  to  discover  what  the  face 
of  an  executioner  might  be  like;  but  what  I  saw  in 
the  face  was  a  soft  heart,  a  very  soft  heart! 

It  is  too  much  to  expect  that  a  clean-sweeping 
revolution  should  be  without  hurt  or  pain  —  as 
harmless  as  acting  on  a  New  Year's  resolution !  But 
in  the  future  we  may  look  for  cooler  judgment  among 
the  Bolsheviks;  there  will  come  their  rules  and  cus- 
toms; already  one  may  see  them  acquiring  habits: 
the  Soviet  system  is  getting  its  feet!  The  strong 
leaders  are  restraining  the  impulsive  ones.  There 
must  be  no  Terror !  Those  revolting  deliberate  cruel- 
ties which  are  found  in  all  parts  of  the  world  touched 
by  the  scourge  of  this  war,  must  cease  here;  they 
give  our  panting  enemies  the  material  they  want  for 
creating  a  "  Russian  Terror." 

CARL  MAEDINBURG 

Youngster,  you  find  order  in  disorder,  judgment 
in  children,  rules  in  anarchy ! 

ALEXIS 

It's  of  no  use  to  argue!  You  refuse  to  see  how 
good  can  come  out  of  boisterous,  dramatic,  young 
Humanity,  as,  stung  by  the  bitter  lessons  of  the  war, 
it  renews  the  struggle  to  know  truth,  and  makes  a 
right-about-face  turn  to  get  upon  another  road. 
To  me,  it  is  remarkable  that  at  crucial  periods,  when 
masses  of  men  feel  and  act  upon  the  strength  of 
quick  collective  thought,  new  forms  and  new  leaders 


WHOLE  CLOTH  271 

rise  ready  to  hand,  as  if  nature  herself  has  prepared 
for  the  emergency!  I  never  read  the  story  of  the 
French  people  in  their  revolutionary  crisis  without 
fresh  wonder,  and  every  day  is  renewed  my  wonder 
at  the  spontaneous  governments  which  have  arisen 
in  communist  Russia.  In  each  village  was  born  a 
republic  overnight.  At  first  each  local  Soviet  is 
like  a  monarch,  sovereign  in  its  own  realm ;  all  things 
seem  to  be  in  confusion.  Your  gentleman  who  thinks 
only  in  terms  of  large  conglomerations  of  humanity, 
who  derives  satisfaction  in  having  people  lumped  and 
tagged  and  centralized  under  a  crown  or  a  constitu- 
tion, is  quite  put  out  by  such  a  complex  of  auton- 
omies as  Russia  presents  to-day. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

These  centrifugal  tendencies  of  Bolshevism  are 
pure  Russian.  The  Russian  is  an  individualist. 
Our  German,  and  our  American,  friend  here  find 
much  to  condemn  in  Bolshevism.  Much  of  this  they 
condemn  is  Russian  character.  We  Russians  were' 
never  intended  for  empire.  We  love  our  local  liber- 
ties. Like  the  ancient  Greeks,  we  should  be  content 
with  city  states.  And  the  Bolsheviks  really  feel  a 
respect  for  the  insubordination  of  small  units. 
When  I  was  in  Kazan  a  few  weeks  ago,  I  saw  several 
Tartar  regiments,  and  in  the  course  of  business  I 
met  a  Tartar  commissar.  Perhaps  it  should  have 
hurt  my  pride  to  see  this  downtrodden  race,  up- 
standing! My  pride  was  touched;  but  only  for 
them,  not  against  them! 


MAN  FROM  THE  CROWD  BESIDE  THE  VERANDA 
Ha !  the  Tartars  have  Kazan  by  the  throat !  It's 
only  by  means  of  Tartar  mercenaries  that  the  Jew- 
ish commissars  keep  control  of  the  city.  The  Tar- 
tars have  forced  the  commissars  to  remove  the  Rus- 
sian Cross  from  the  top  of  the  tower  built  in  the 
Kazan  Kremlin  to  commemorate  the  Russian  con- 
quest of  the  Tartars  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
to  put  in  its  place  the  Moslem  Crescent! 

A  TARTAR 

Why  shouldn't  we  have  some  rights  1  We're  a 
good  third  of  the  city  of  Kazan. 

A  JEW 

Yes,  why  shouldn't  we  subjugated  races  have  some 
rights !  Give  to  us  a  chance,  and  we  will  prove 
ourselves  to  be  but  the  better  servants  to  our  Russian 
over-lords ! 

MAN  FROM  THE  CROWD 

Give  you  Jews  a  chance,  servile  swine,  you'd  soon 
have  all  the  rest  of  us  your  debtors ! 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Wait  till  after  the  Bolsheviks  go!  and  you'll  see 
the  most  thoroiigh  pogrom  Russia  ever  knew. 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 
For  shame!     For  shame,  Pasha! 

THE  JEW 
Man  of  hate!  a  pink  rag  rouses  the  bull  in  you. 


WHOLE  CLOTH  273 

You  believe  in  nothing  but  flesh  and  bones ;  flesh  and 
bones,  classified,  perfumed  and  painted.  Sweating 
flesh,  flesh  not  well-tailored  —  Jewish,  or  Tartar,  or 
Armenian  flesh,  you  turn  up  your  nose  at ! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

You're  well  hit,  Pasha!  It  is  a  hopeful  thing 
about  these  Bolsheviks  that  they  intend  giving  the 
poor  despised  races  a  share  in  the  government.  In 
this  I  believe  the  Bolsheviks  are  quite  Russian. 
They  are  not  stingy  with  their  liberties ;  as  were,  for 
example,  the  Hungarians,  with  what  Kossuth  won 
for  them. 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

The  Bolsheviks  are  generous  enough,  God  knows ! 
They  are  parceling  out  the  country  to  the  menial 
classes  here  and  there,  leaving  Russia's  patriots  a 
long  task  later  to  recover  them.  Praise  your  Greek 
city  states,  if  you  will,  but,  at  the  same  time,  recall, 
will  you  please,  your  history  a  little  further  on,  to 
wise  Alexander!  The  Bolsheviks  not  only  have 
allowed  Finland,  the  Baltic  Provinces,  the  Ukraine, 
and  Crimea,  to  break  away;  their  own  territory  is 
in  a  hundred  pieces,  which  they  can't  even  keep  all 
Bolshevik;  there  is  no  central  control! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

But  there  will  come  central  control!  That  like 
the  new  discipline  —  its  rules  and  customs  —  will 
come  as  Bolshevik  institutions  settle.  For  a  parallel 
of  decentralization,  I  would  refer  you,  Mr.  America, 
to  your  own  history.  For  several  years  after  your 


274      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

freedom  from  the  mother  country  was  won,  there 
continued  such  a  struggle  of  leaders,  and  parties, 
and  states,  that  we  find  on  record  how  gravely  the 
founders  of  your  nation  despaired  of  arriving  at  any 
national  unity.  And  further  was  it  not  over  the 
right  of  states  to  secede  that  your  Civil  War,  the 
most  bloody  war  in  modern  times  till  this,  was 
fought  ? 

FRANK  PIAISTEAD 

You  Russians  know  American  history  damn  well ! 
But  some  of  you  put  on  it  absurd  interpretations. 
You  refuse  to  see  it  as  a  record  of  adventures  in 
just  government;  just  but  sane.  We  have  never 
danced  the  reel  of  extravagant  radicalisms;  at  least, 
where  innovations  have  been  thrust  upon  us  by  inter- 
mittent demogogy,  they  have  been  checked  by  courts, 
subsequent  legislation,  or  disuse.  All  the  same,  we 
have  our  ideals,  as  our  outstanding  leaders  have 
from  time  to  time  conceived  and  framed  them.  We 
are  not  to  be  judged  by  the  grasping,  visionless 
politicians  that  as  often  as  not  represent  us.  Judge 
us  by  our  best,  by  those  who  impersonate  our  durable 
and  traditional  hardheadedness  and  idealism;  just  at 
present,  by  Woodrow  Wilson.  In  him  you  find  your 
disciplinarian  with  a  vision ;  your  humanitarian  with 
a  sense  of  graded  values.  I  didn't  vote  for  him ;  I'm 
a  Republican ;  but  that's  neither  here  nor  there ! 
Will  you  be  fair  enough  to  accept  him,  as  I  do,  as 
our  present  spokesman? 


WHOLE  CLOTH  275 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Wilson  is  a  writer  and  an  educator ;  he  is  the  first 
intellectual,  strictly  speaking,  in  your  presidential 
succession;  an  intellectual  of  sterner  stuff  than  our 
Russian  type  generally  is,  and  all  the  more  intract- 
able in  such  errors  of  the  intellectual  as  he  may 
run  to.  He  has  a  well-considered,  a  well-seasoned, 
his  very  own  conception  of  democracy,  neither  more 
nor  less.  He  sincerely  wishes  to  see  this  conception 
of  democracy  sway  the  world's  convocation  for 
peade.  And  for  installing  his  ideas  of  national 
rights,  he  has  in  mind  very  definite  changes  to  be 
made,  especially  on  the  part  of  his  enemies. 

Wilson  champions  the  cause  of  a  league  of  demo- 
cratic nations.  But  does  he  acknowledge  that,  fun- 
damentally, the  league  .must  be  a  federation  of  the 
workmen  of  the  world?  Does  he  appreciate  the  fact 
that  before  the  war  the  workmen  were  the  sole  inter- 
nationalists, and  already  had  an  "  international  " 
after  their  own  fashion?  Or  does  Wilson  seek  merely 
to  improve  the  care  with  which  the  big  brothers 
watch  over  the  little  ones,  the  big  brothers  being  the 
right-minded  brothers  of  the  right-minded  nations ; 
the  brotherhood  being  exercised,  for  the  brothers, 
not  through  them. 

CHASTL.EEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Just  as  Kerensky,  so  you  tell  me,  would  have 
Bolshevism  come  for  the  people,  but  not  through 
them! 


276      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

You  are  clever,  Professor!  You  are  a  regular 
Bolshevik!  Your  suspicions  and  prejudices  will  not 
permit  you  to  see  things  as  they  are.  You  think 
that  all  the  while  Wilson  speaks  eloquently  he  has 
something  up  his  sleeve !  You  see  only  his  mailed 
fist,  you  do  not  see  the  genuine  humanity  of  the  man. 
You  say  we  Americans  do  not  mean  what  we  said 
when  we  came  into  the  war;  but  the  rest  of  Europe 
has  at  last  come  to  see  that  we  are  an  idealistic  peo- 
ple ;  that  we  are  not  everlastingly  with  an  eye  to  the 
almighty  dollar.  Whatever  Europe  may  think,  we 
are  in  an  enviable  position.  We  not  only  have 
ideals ;  we  have  the  power  to  enforce  them ;  we  hold 
the  key  to  the  world  situation.  We  have  become 
the  richest  and  the  strongest  nation ;  our  allies  will 
reckon  with  us,  the  enemy  leaders  already  refer  to 
us,  as  such.  This  being  so,  we  shan't  have  to  shout 
ourselves  hoarse  to  be  heard  at  the  peace  conference. 
We  have  not  gone  about,  and  into  war,  without 
knowing  what  we  were  doing:  we  are  a  practical 
people.  Our  industry,  our  whole  population  —  all 
classes  —  is  united  and  organized  to  win  this  war ! 

CARL  MARDINBURG 
You  mean  your  grand  bourgeoisie  is  united ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Don't  tell  me  what  I  mean!  and  don't  use  the 
word  "  bourgeois,"  or  any  derivative  thereof,  in  re- 
ferring to  America !  I  said  all  classes.  The  Amer- 
ican Federation  of  Labor,  surely  representative  of 


WHOLE  CLOTH  277 

our  working  classes,  is  working  solidly  behind  the 
war  administration.  We  shall  attend  to  our  internal 
problems  after  the  war:  we  attend  to  one  thing  at 
a  time.  If  you  Russians  had  waited  till  after  the 
war  before  attempting  to  clean  your  own  house,  you 
would  not  now  be  bereft  of  the  world's  sympathy. 
As  it  is,  you  have  no  honor  among  the  nations,  you 
have  gained  internal  famine  and  disorder,  you  con- 
tribute Bolshevism  and  so  but  add  to  the  dangers 
already  facing  the  brave  men  who  fight  for  justice 
among  the  nations. 

Moreover,  you  will  find  you  have  prejudiced  good 
radicalism,  setting  back  the  rational  progress  of 
Socialism  in  Europe  a  hundred  years.  Mr.  Pro- 
fessor, you  and  Alexis  have  been  straining  facts 
and  your  own  good  sense  here  to-night,  to  make 
out  a  case  for  Bolshevism;  but  surely  this  is  be- 
cause you  do  not  understand  the  drift  of  your 
theories.  I  have  listened  patiently,  trying  to  see 
if  there  mightn't  be  after  all  something  in  a  move- 
ment that  undoubtedly  has  the  support  of  some 
good  men,  idealists  or  intellectuals.  You  ridicule 
the  Russian  intellectual;  I  agree  he  is  a  pitifully 
inconsequential  fellow;  well,  what  are  the  Bolshevik 
leaders  themselves  if  not  intellectuals  merely;  stupid, 
impractical  and  unbalanced,  a  millstone  around  the 
neck  of  the  true  Russian  people.  Personally  these 
men  may  be  irreproachable,  even  delightful. 

Do  not  think  I  do  not  respect  you,  Professor  —  in 
fact,  I  think  I  would  admire  you  if  you  cast  your 
lot  with  the  lower  classes ;  I  believe  your  sympathy 


278      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

with  them  is  genuine  enough:  we  all  hereafter  must 
face  more  squarely  the  problems  of  the  poor;  we 
must  do  away  with  poverty.  But  I  feel  you  only 
theorize,  Professor ;  you  are  not  in  truth  a  Bolshevik. 
If  you  are,  it  matters  little;  you  will  be  able  to 
repent  soon,  before  you  have  compromised  your- 
self :  for  the  ogre  of  Bolshevism  hurries  off  the  scene 
as  quickly  as  it  came  on;  it  is  only  evanescent! 
You  Bolshevik-minded  folks  only  talk  in  thin  air. 
If,  when  I  get  home,  I  think  over  this  discussion,  it 
will  seem  like  the  stuff  of  dreams,  as  insubstantial  as 
the  smoke  of  our  cigarettes ;  and  I  shall  have  to 
pinch  myself  to  realize  that  I  have  been  conversing 
here  with  live  men! 

MICHALL  SERGEIVITCH 

Perhaps  you  have  not  been  "  conversing "  with 
us.  Perhaps  your  mind  has  been  turning  nothing 
over  as  we  talked;  at  any  rate,  it  did  not  meet 
ours !  Perhaps  it  was  your  mind  you  should  have 
pinched  as  you  sat  here.  Men  are  alive,  are  real,  to 
you,  perhaps,  only  when  they  move,  physically ! 

Perhaps  physical  polity  is  all  you  see  in  the 
state!  You  boast  of  the  richest  and  most  powerful 
nation ;  rich  in  material  things,  strong  in  the  equip- 
ment of  war.  Indeed  you  Americans  are  at  the  top, 
at  the  pinnacle  of  capitalism.  Your  capitalists  shout 
"  democracy  "  with  the  loudest :  as  much  money  can 
be  made  in  a  democracy  as  under  some  other  kind 
of  government.  Your  leaders  will  not  compromise 
with  the  German  System  to-day.  To-morrow  will 


WHOLE  CLOTH  279 

they  compromise  with  the  American  System;  will 
they  allow  it  to  remain  the  powerful  autocracy  it  is ; 
will  they  curb  your  own  cotton,  coal,  and  iron  kings ; 
will  they  stay  the  imperial  expansion  of  your  own 
materialism?  Will  they  admit  where  their  real 
wealth  and  power  lie?  Or  will  they  continue  to 
think  of  the  producers  of  your  wealth  as  only  one 
part  of  it,  as  something  to  enter  in  the  table  of 
statistics  with  the  other  resources,  as  problems  of 
poverty?  Indeed,  men  like  you,  Mr.  America,  de- 
clare your  concern  for  labor ;  you  talk  about  welfare 
committees  and  labor  policy  boards:  for  you  know 
The  System  stands  on  labor;  you  know  that  all  the 
wealth,  all  the  power,  you  boast  of,  is  in  your  putty 
feet;  tons  of  human  energy  there;  nothing  unreal, 
nothing  thin,  there!  After  not  many  years,  you'll 
not  have  to  pinch  yourselves  to  realize  how  live  it  is, 
either ! 

You  have  given  Bolshevism  a  challenge !  You  will 
make  it  evanescent  by  saying  it  is  so.  It  is  a  blow  in 
your  face ;  if  successful,  it  would  suck  out  all  matter 
for  your  pride :  and  so  you  deny  it ;  it  cannot  be,  it 
is  not  strong;  you  call  it  names;  you  delineate  its 
horrors ;  your  leaders  summon  the  nations  of  the 
world  to  protest  its  terrorism  in  Russia.  Terror- 
ism? That  which  it  suits  you  to  call  "terrorism" 
is  created,  in  part,  by  your  own  swift  falling  upon 
our  land  and  population ;  in  part,  by  the  exaggera- 
tion and  misrepresentation  of  your  censored  and 
well-disciplined  press ;  but  for  the  most  part  it  is  a 
delusion,  arising  out  of  your  own  stupefaction  at 


280      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

seeing  somewhere  the  "  democracy  "  which  you  have 
so  much  in  your  mouths,  actualized  1  We  accept  the 
challenge !  We  scorn  your  stagy  protests !  we  scorn 
the  insolence  of  your  new-militarists,  we  scorn  the 
grossness  of  your  riches.  For  we  know  how  these 
riches  have  been  piled  up  by  enslaving  your  masses, 
your  putty  feet!  We  know  how  you  keep  them 
menial,  how  you  develop  them  into  the  patriots  you 
need:  by  playing  upon  their  grosser  passions  and 
prejudices,  by  feeding  them  with  lies  from  your  regi- 
mented, bourgeois  press*,  pulpit,  and  platform ! 

You  come  among  us  boasting  of  these  enlightened 
and  liberty-loving  menials,  and  bringing  messages 
in  their  name.  You  come  here  as  we  are  passing 
through  the  glory  of  free  Russia  at  white  heat,  and 
our  order  is  only  chaos  to  you,  our  words  are 
empty ;  you  listen  to  our  repudiated  Bourgeoisie  that 
alone  of  us  all  you  associate  with,  for  their  words 
sound  familiar ;  but  to  the  birth-cries  of  big  pregnant 
Russia  you  stop  your  ears,  as  to  something  obscene. 
You  say  we  are  idle,  we  do  not  do  things  as  you. 
God  be  praised  we  don't!  Keep  to  yourself  your 
activities,  your  huge  businesses,  your  uncanny 
efficiency.  If  these  things  make  men  blind,  if  they 
m,ake  men  deaf,  keep  them  to  yourself ;  we  have  native 
ignorance  abounding  with  us;  we  do  not  want  ma- 
chines brought  in  that  will  create  more. 

Finally,  you  come  against  us  with  your  armies, 
and  with  the  cunning  little  men  of  Japan;  all  the 
capitalisms  send  a  quota  for  the  expedition:  the 
cause  interests  capitalism  everywhere!  You  bring 


WHOLE  CLOTH  281 

us  food  and  —  oh !  you  will  do  all  sorts  of  things  for 
us,  for  the  Russians  whom  you  would  make  trustees 
over  the  rest  of  us !  To  these  right  Russians  you 
express  sorrow  that  you  must  come ;  you  say  it  is 
necessary  as  a  military  measure  against  your  enemies 
—  Germany's  reason  for  trespassing  on  Belgium. 
Rot !  If  to-morrow  Germany  succumbs,  you  will 
nevertheless  stay  on  under  some  pretext,  your  high 
duty  to  this  or  that,  your  mandate  to  establish 
right  and  justice!  But  we  listen  no  longer  to  your 
words  !  We  fight !  We  are  not  pacifists.  We  fight 
so  well  you  call  us  Germans.  Starvation  is  one  of 
your  weapons.  Well,  then,  we  will  starve ! 

There  must  be  freemen  in  America  and  in  England 
who  feel  it  a  shame  to  starve  brave  workmen,  and 
to  invade  their  young  republic.  These  we  will  have 
as  our  friends  in  your  own  arsenals,  and  call  them 
what  dirty  names  you  like,  they  will  accomplish  more 
for  us  and  the  common  cause  than  you  can  imagine. 
You  retort  that  we  have  our  enemies  at  home  in 
Russia,  you  will  say  we  are  not  Russia:  we  are  of 
the  city,  the  peasants  hate  us ;  we  are  soldiers ;  we 
are  poor.  Indeed  there  are  many  Russians  who 
hate  us;  we  have  been  too  uncompromising!  They 
hate  us  as  much  as  you  do,  and  for  the  same  reasons. 
You  thought,  at  any  rate  you  said,  that  our  enemies 
were  in  a  majority,  and  that  once  your  bright  ban- 
ners were  planted  on  our  shores,  there  would  flock 
to  them  countless  thousands.  Some  have  gone  over 
to  you  for  bread,  and,  are  with  you  the  elite,  those 
few  who  had  the  money  to  flee  to  London  or  Paris 


282       SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

—  they,  mind  you,  arc  your  really  denationalized 
people,  in  their  investments  arid  in  their  pleasures! 
But  the  Russians  who  count,  you  drive  to  us. 
You  make  Bolshevism  national,  Russian.  And  why 
are  we  less  patriotic  than  your  bourgeois  fugitives? 
Do  we  not  love  homeland  as  much  as  they?  Is  not 
Russia  holy  to  us?  Are  not  her  broad  plains,  her 
busy  rivers,  her  rich  language,  holy  to  us?  Ah,  but 
we  are  more  than  Russian  —  that  is  our  fault.  We 
fight  for  more  than  Russia,  you  say !  It  was  in  the 
name  of  the  world  proletariat  we  struck  down  Rus- 
sian capitalism.  Yes,  and  we  are  strong  from  that 
struggle ;  we  are  desperate,  too ;  for  we  have  tasted 
blood.  We  have  become  maddened  with  fire;  by  its 
light  we  have  seen,  off  not  too  far  in  the  distance,  a 
better  way  of  living !  And  this  fresh  strength  of 
ours,  this  madness,  this,  vision,  is  not,  as  you  know 
only  too  well,  for  holy  Russia  alone,  not  alone  for 
her  broad  plains,  for  her  busy  rivers,  for  her  mighty 
populations;  rather,  it  is  dedicated  to  Brother 
Workmen  everywhere.  And  so  from  everywhere  we 
expect,  we  shall  have,  great  increase  to  our  ranks. 
Ours  is  the  force  of  a  raging  fire  which  cannot  be 
confined.  You  may  stop  it  once,  you  may  stop  it 
twice ;  but  once  engendered,  it  will  not  stay  quenched. 
'Stamp  it  out  in  Russia,  and  it  will  flare  up  at  your 
own  feet  on  another  continent! 

(The  challenge  of  MICHAIL  SESGErvrrcH 
strikes  the  men  dumb!  It  is  getting  late,  and 
most  of  the  promenaders  have  already  left 
the  park.  Over  on  a  back  path  the  BEGGAR'S 


WHOLE  CLOTH  283 

grandchild  can  be  heard  singing  the  Russian 
"  Marseillaise ";  some  soldiers  in  another 
part  of  the  park  have  taken  up  the  refrain. 
CHASTLEEVY  and  BURTSEV,  who,  all  his  other 
customers  having  departed,  had  now  taken 
a  seat  at  the  corner  table,  sing  with  gusto  the 
last  lines.) 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

You  sing,  Chastleevy,  like  a  Bolshevik  —  with  a 
cracked  voice! 

CHASTLEEVY,  THE  ARTIST 

Never  mind,  I  do  sing;  that's  something  besides 
laughing,  which  is  all  you  do.  You  may  make  fun 
of  the  singing  of  Bolsheviks ;  I  admire  them  for  it ; 
especially,  if  it  is  true,  as  they  say,  that  they  sing, 
victorious  or  defeated. 

BURTSEV,  THE  WAITER 

They  can  sing  when  defeated,  because  they  know 
they  are  going  to  win  in  the  end ;  nothing  can  stop  the 
soldiers  of  the  Proletariat!  Cover  your  Counter- 
Revolutionary  soldiers  with  medals,  increase  their 
pay,  fill  them  with  liquor,  demonize  them  with  every 
engine  of  hell ;  our  fire  shall  consume  their  fire !  Our 
comrades  are  mad,  if  you  like.  They  fight  to  finish  a 
work  just  begun.  Workingmen  come  from  the  north, 
workingmcri  come  from  the  south,  as  the  brave  six 
hundred  marched  on  foot  from  Marseilles  to  Paris, 
car-iraing!  They  march  without  trappings,  with- 
out the  brilliant  uniforms  of  officers.  No  wines  or 


284      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

sweet  chocolate  in  their  equipment!  Our  comfort- 
able officer-enemies  seem  to  have  a  great  deal  of  the 
bright,  convenient,  and  satisfying  things  which  we 
Bolshevik  Russians  find  very  attractive ;  nevertheless 
they  are  not  going  to  buy  us  with  the  old  promises 
of  easier  lives,  nor  with  ships  of  food  and  money. 
The  liquor  they  offer  us  as  bribes  we  will  hurl  into 
the  gutters,  where  we  emptied  our  own  liquor  in  those 
first  mad  days  of  the  Revolution.  No,  they  are  not 
going  to  buy  us  with  what  they  think  is  all  we  care 
for !  Nor  are  they  going  to  deceive  us  again  to  take 
service  as  Swiss  guards  for  the  palaces  and  royal 
grounds  they  live  in! 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 
Burtsev  seems  to  know  his  French  Revolution ! 

FRANK  PLAISTEAD 

Probably  even  he  knows  American  history  —  oh, 
you  clever  Russians ! 

MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

Burtsev  has  explained  Bolshevik  self -discipline  bet- 
ter than  I  did. 

PASHA,  THE  GENTLEMAN 

Discipline !  The  new  Puritanism !  The  new  state 
of  the  Naked  Truth,  sans  God,  sans  law,  sans  food, 
sans  good  clothing,  sans  all  the  good  things !  There 
will  be  no  more  wine,  nothing  the  well-born  may  drink 
to  distinguish  them  from  the  hoi  polloi!  It  will  be 
a  drab  existence  we  live,  reduced  to  a  bleared  level ! 


WHOLE  CLOTH  285 

MIC  HAIL  SERGEIVITCH 

It  will  not  be  Puritanism,  nor  Syndicalism,  nor 
Socialism,  nor  Anarchism,  nor  Libertinism,  nor  any 
other  sport  movement,  cult  or  tendency  which  you 
disbelievers  can  cry  out  at  and  smother  by  derision. 
It  may  be  level  for  you:  it  will  perform  no  jigs,  cut 
no  capers,  nor  afford  you  any  amusement.  Doubt- 
less, it  will  be  distressfully  level,  a  vast  plain  stretch- 
ing endlessly,  where  roams  every  living  creature, 
where  grows  every  green  thing,  where  the  rivers  are 
black  with  happy  commerce !  It  will  not  be  a  French 
Revolution.  That  was  but  a  symptom,  but  a  sick- 
ness that  frightened  the  Bourgeoisie.  Of  this  revolu- 
tion there  will  be  no  Carlyle  that  will  presume  to 
write  a  history.  Historians  do  not  write  of  Deu- 
calion and  Pyrrha:  they  are  an  epic  subject.  With 
the  coming  of  Bolshevism  is  an  end  to  the  periods  of 
primitive  man ;  the  developed  man  will  look  back  upon 
the  kings  and  rulers  of  his  youth  as  at  the  best  only 
heroes  with  serious  limitations ;  he  will  know  the  ape 
in  his  line  of  ancestry;  and  he  will  not  be  ashamed, 
neither  will  he  take  pride  in  it.  It  had  to  be ! 

Bolshevism  comes  in  the  twentieth  century;  now 
we  see  it  only  in  its  infancy  —  formless,  without  clear 
meaning.  It  will  be  no  lovely  thing,  and  there  will 
be  no  hypocrites  flourishing  to  make  it  appear  so. 
It  comes  as  the  war  itself  —  unprecedented,  of  un- 
believable proportions,  cruel,  sucking  out  more  of 
human  energy  than  ever  there  seemed  to  be.  But  its 
cruelty  will  not  be,  like  that  of  the  war,  simianesque- 
burlesque.  It  will  be  the  cruelty  of  the  irrevocable, 


286      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

of  the  "  done-f or !  "  Not  a  punishment  for  foolish- 
ness but  its  annihilation.  If  the  industrial  revolu- 
tion of  a  century  ago  was  cruel,  this  revolution  will 
be  murderous.  It  will  displace ;  without  proposition, 
it  will  dispose!  Many  who  were  first  shall  be  last, 
and  many  who  were  last  shall  be  first !  It  will  not  be 
Utopia,  Happiness  Unmitigated!  It  will  be  a  crass 
thing,  out  of  struggles,  bitterness  and  woe  com- 
pounded ;  and  the  woe  of  the  dreamers  of  Utopias,  of 
worlds  without  pain,  will  be  very  great !  Bolshevism 
brings  not  peace  but  a  sharp  sword.  It  is  not 
Pacifism  —  Pacifism  is  a  step  beyond ;  Bolshevism 
only  clears  the  way  for  many  such  expressions  of 
man's  best  spirits,  of  his  high  instinct  for  getting  by 
losing. 

For,  indeed,  after  the  first  freedom,  the  easiest,  the 
narrow  freedom  to  be  as  good  as  any  animal  in  the 
pack,  is  obtained,  then  are  just  made  possible  the 
richer  wider  freedoms :  the  freedom  to  be  worked  hard 
by  one's  natural  interests  and  so  to  taste  the  deliri- 
ousness,  the  misery,  of  self-f orgetfulness ;  the  freedom 
to  sing  out  one's  heart,  by  mad  song  and  dance  to  be 
saved  and  healed;  and,  finally,  the  freedom  of  the 
mind.  When  by  the  light  of  the  new  realism  men  see 
what  blind  creatures  they  may  be,  they  will  under- 
stand that  they  must  be,  not  reformed,  but  informed. 
They  will  seek  to  know  beauty  and  truth.  They  will 
teach  their  children  to  think. 

(The  Teacher  rises  from  the  table.  As  he  stands 
looking  out  over  the  hill,  he  observes  signs  of  a  brew- 
ing storm.  The  river  is  turbulent;  her  boats  are 


WHOLE  CLOTH  287 

chafing  at  anchor,  their  moving  lights  ft  ash.  The 
moon  is  riding  fast  from  under  a  heavy  black  cloud 
and  casting  a  ghostly  light.  The  trees  in  the  park 
are  lashed  by  the  wind.  A  strong  gust  blows  a  chair 
from  the  cafe  veranda  into  the  middle  of  the  path.) 
But  men  do  not  wait  to  think !  In  heavy  times  they 
move  by  passion  and  instinct.  They  always  will! 
We  Bolsheviks  will  leave  to  history  our  reasons. 
We  do  not  fear  to  ack  quickly  as  we  must! 

ALEXIS 
The  wind  bloweth  as  it  listeth ! 

(The    ex-soldier    at    the    coat-rack    helps 
MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH  on  with  his  coat.) 
I  will  walk  home  with  you,  Teacher! 

(MICHAIL  SERGEIVITCH  and  ALEXIS  shake 
hands  all  round,  and  depart  together.) 

CARL  MARDINBURG 

The  Herr  Professor  seems  to  be  a  thorough  Bol- 
shevik. Is  he  active  in  the  party? 

JUDGE  SEMYONOV 

No.  Some  of  the  Nishni  Bolsheviks  wanted  to 
make  him  commissar  of  education,  but  the  majority 
wouldn't  listen  to  it.  Could  anything  show  better 
the  absurdity  of  the  Teacher's  theories !  And  he  has 
been  most  eloquently  and  most  cleverly  explaining 
to  us  how  there  would  come  those  from  the  educated 
classes  into  Bolshevism.  Ha!  he,  himself,  will  come 
knocking  on  the  door  in  vain ! 


288      SKETCHES  OF  SOVIET  RUSSIA 

BURTSEV,    THE    WAITER 

(As  he  and  the  ex-soldier-at-the-coat-rack  are  put- 
ting up  the  shutters  of  the  cafe  and  closing  it  for  the 
night.)  Perhaps  he  will!  But  all  the  fine  spirited 
men  like  him  everywhere  will  not.  For  the  sake  of 
ten  men  good  and  true  like  him,  we  Bolsheviks  will 
spare  tens  of  thousands  of  you  scoffers  —  you  with 
your  gratified  pride,  you  who  will  come  to  any  state 
but  that  of  humility:  who  refuse  to  reckon  with  the 
possibility  that  you  may  do  badly  or  think  badly ! 
Michail  Sergeivitch  and  Alexis,  and  you,  Chastleevy, 
are  humble.  You  ask  nothing  from  us  Bolsheviks. 
You  may  get  recognition  or  you  may  not ;  it  doesn't 
matter !  Men  like  you  are  answers  to  the  best  argu- 
ments they  may  put  up  against  us.  God  made  you 
honest  hearts ;  He  will  make  others ;  and  in  that  we 
Bolsheviks  will  try  to  give  Him  some  assistance ! 

(The  men  at  the  corner  table,  the  only 
guests  left  in  the  cafe,  take  up  their  hats 
and  file  down  the  cafe  steps.  Rain  is  begin- 
ning to  fall.  A  flash  of  lightning  for  a  mo- 
ment brightens  the  whole  park  and  reveals 
seven  figures,  coat  cottars  turned  up,  hurry- 
ing along  the  path,  and  passing  a  stiff  monu-n 
ment  to  Count  Zolodeen,  grandfather  of 
ALEXIS,  a  brave  general  in  a  past  war.) 


THE   END 


DATE  DUE 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000805172     4 


